


Demons

by ConvulsiveBeauty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Bisexual Male Character, Corporal Punishment, Dom/sub, Domestic Discipline, Gay Male Character, M/M, Male Slash, Marriage of Convenience, Mental Health Issues, Post-Hogwarts, Same-Sex Marriage, Self-Harm, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-18 22:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11884095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvulsiveBeauty/pseuds/ConvulsiveBeauty
Summary: AU, Post-DH: Harry Potter lost his magical abilities after defeating Voldemort, and very shortly after, lost his mind. Over a decade later, upon his release from Azkaban prison and having had his wand snapped, Severus Snape finds him in a New York mental hospital. Snarry. Slash. Sub!Harry. Dom!Severus. Eventual domestic discipline/corporal punishment (cp), spanking of adults.





	1. Scars That Can't Be Seen

**Chapter One: Scars That Can't Be Seen***

_*_ _Lazarus,_ David Bowie

"How long has he been here?" the severe-looking man clad in black wondered aloud, gesturing to a young male patient sitting alone at a table in the hospital common room. He was building a tower with wooden blocks, a blank expression on his face.

"Who? You mean, him?" the orderly pointed at the young man, "A few weeks this time, but he's been here before. Why do you ask? Do you know him?"

"Yes," the older man said tentatively, "I know him...well."

"In what capacity do you know him, might I ask?" the orderly inquired delicately, "I apologize, but I really should not be releasing patient information to you until I have seen some sort of identification."

Frowning, the black-clad man withdrew what appeared to be a passport from his trenchcoat pocket and handed it to the orderly.

"I am a ... friend ... of the family," he offered uncertainly, wincing as if it pained him to say it, "I am not a blood relation."

"Severus Snape," the orderly read from this travel documents, "... friend of the family, you say? I was not aware that Mr. Potter had any surviving family members."

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" the surly man spat, "I knew his parents before they were deceased."

"Ah," the orderly nodded, "I apologize, Mr. Snape. Regardless, though, seeing as you are not a blood relation, I am not at liberty to disclose any of Mr. Potter's medical information to you without his consent. I am sure you understand."

"Naturally," Snape responded sardonically, "I would, however, like to speak to the boy - to Potter - if possible."

"Right, well, Mr. Potter would have to consent to such a visit," the orderly explained, "He would be within his rights to refuse to see you."

Snape narrowed his eyes, "Are you always this anal retentive?"

The orderly ignored this comment, "Here is a form to fill out to request visitation rights."

"Visitation rights?" Snape guffawed, "One would think I was the boy's deadbeat father. I am simply an acquaintance who wants to visit him while he's in hospital."

"Mr. Snape," the orderly began delicately, "I am sure you are aware, but, this is not a typical hospital. This is a psychiatric care facility. Any interactions our patients have with outside persons must be closely supervised and monitored."

"I am aware," Snape said quietly, "But I really must speak to him. How much longer must I wait to be granted authorization?"

"We will be in touch in the next forty-eight hours," the orderly assured him, "Visitation hours are from two to four PM on Friday. If Mr. Potter is amenable, you will be able to see him then."

"You are aware that Potter is a British citizen?" Snape narrowed his eyes at the man, "You cannot hold him here indefinitely."

"I am afraid you misunderstand, Mr. Snape. The patient in question has not been committed involuntarily. He came to us."

"He checked himself in?" Snape sputtered, disbelievingly.

"Yes," the orderly bit out, his patience wearing thin, "Now, Mr. Snape, I really must insist you come back only once we have contacted you."

"You'll... ring me?" Snape said, pulling a cell phone out of his pocket and looking at it as if it were an artifact from outer space. He looked up, seeking confirmation, but the orderly had left his side to help subdue an agitated patient in the common area. Snape looked back over at where Harry had been sitting, but the boy was gone.

 _Not a boy, anymore,_ Snape thought to himself. He could scarcely believe it had been twelve years.


	2. I Don't Know You Anymore

**Chapter Two: I Don't Know You Anymore***

* _I Don't Know You Anymore_ , Savage Garden

"Thank you for seeing me, Potter," Snape said awkwardly, glancing over at the orderly standing at the side of the room to supervise their visit.

Harry nervously glanced up at his former professor with wide eyes and then looked back down at the table that separated them.

Snape turned to look at Harry, who had taken to biting his lip and wringing his hands in mild distress.

"Are you really still afraid of me, Potter?" Snape asked softly, his eyebrows furrowed.

"No, not really," Harry said quietly, "It's just… I'm embarrassed. And I'm really sorry."

"Whatever for?"

"I should have tried harder...fought harder… to get you out of Azkaban before the end of your sentence. I understand if you want payback or…"

"No," Snape cut him off brusquely, causing Harry to flinch, "Potter, you and Granger did well to get me only ten years. I...I'm grateful."

"But they snapped your wand!" Harry whispered, "You must hate me."

"I'm not angry with you," Snape said flatly, "And I certainly don't hate you - not anymore. Not for a long time. How could I blame you for losing the right to practice magic when you have lost the very ability to do so?"

"Why did you come to New York then?" Harry asked him in a small voice.

"I wanted to see you," Snape reasoned, "I must say I was... concerned… when I heard about your situation."

"What have you heard...about my situation?" Harry looked at him with frightened eyes.

"Just that...you had gone to America after losing your magic and that you had...become unwell," Snape explained, "Frankly, I was shocked that Granger and Weasley weren't here with you."

"There is good reason for that," Harry blushed, looking ashamed, "They have good reason not to want to spend time with me anymore. I don't really want to get into it...but suffice it to say it's not their fault. Plus they have their spouses now...and kids… I can't really expect them or anyone else to uproot their lives for me."

"You shouldn't be alone," Snape said quietly.

"OK," said Harry, "But I'm not alone. I'm...well…here. Being watched after." He gestured to the orderly standing off to the side of the room.

"I don't mean to be indelicate, Potter," Snape began in hushed tones, "But...what happened? Why are you here? You're not … mad."

Harry let out a big sigh, "I am, though."

"How so? What is the diagnosis?"

Harry bit his lip again.

"I need to know, Potter."

"Why?"

"Potter, I… want to help you get back on your feet. You're a war hero, for Merlin's sake. It's owed to you, don't you think?"

"I think…" Harry smiled sadly, "I think that I had my shot at being happy...and cared for...but that I really messed it up. I know you always thought that I had some sort of sense of entitlement, but I truly don't think anybody owes me anything. Least of all you."

"Where do you live when you're not hospitalized, Potter?" Snape changed the subject, hoping to get some more information out of the uncharacteristically reticent young man.

"I should be getting out next week if I'm still…stable," Harry admitted, looking somewhat bashful, "If you're still in the city, we could meet up. If not, well, I am really glad you stopped by, Professor. I am glad you...got out...all right and that…"

Snape reached out and stilled Harry's wringing hands on the table, cupping them with his own.

"I'll be here, Potter."

"OK," Harry gave him a small smile, "We'll talk more then, yeah?"

Snape nodded, and released Harry's hands with a firm squeeze.

"See you next week, Mr. Potter," Snape stood up to take his leave.

"Bye, sir. Thank you for the visit," Harry responded, pushing in his chair.

His heart fluttering strangely in his chest, Harry headed over the nurse's station. It was time for his medication.


	3. By The Time I Got To New York

**Chapter Three: By The Time I Got To New York***

* _Lazarus_ , David Bowie

"He doesn't want you to be present for his discharge interview, Mr. Snape," the orderly held up his hand to stop Snape from entering the room where Harry was talking with hospital personnel. Snape watched through the door's reinforced window pane as a woman in white lab coat slipped several pill bottles into a paper bag.

"I suppose that is his right," Snape said sourly, tapping his fingers on the counter, "You're sure you can't give me any information on his condition?"

"Mr. Potter has not authorized us to release his medical information to you, I'm afraid."

Snape sighed heavily, turning away.

"Do you want my advice, Mr. Snape?"

"Not particularly," Snape sneered.

"Ask him yourself," the orderly advised.

Snape was just about the tell the orderly that he had already done as much when the office door opened abruptly. Harry emerged, dressed in street clothes and carrying a small duffle bag. He looked up at Snape apprehensively, blinking his bright green eyes.

For a moment, Snape's stern expression softened.

"Ready, then, Potter?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, "Let's go."

The two former wizards walked together towards the elevators. Only once the elevator doors had closed, isolating the two of them from the rest of the world, did they speak.

"I could go for a bit of lunch. How about you, Professor?"

Snape smirked, "You really don't need to call me 'professor' anymore, Potter. You're nearly thirty years old and I think it's safe to say my teaching license has been revoked by the Ministry."

Harry chuckled nervously, "Well, is it OK if I call you by your given name, then? Or should I call you Mr. Snape?"

"Don't call me Mr. Snape. That sounds ridiculous."

Harry looked up at Snape expectantly.

"While I am gratified that you feel the need to ask my permission to address me informally, Potter, it really isn't necessary," Snape said silkily, rolling his eyes.

"All right," Harry nodded in understanding, "It just...might take some time to adjust."

Snape snorted, seemingly amused, "By all means, take all the time you need."

"So, lunch? I'm famished. There is an Italian eatery around the corner that's top notch."

"Lead the way," Snape gestured to the elevator doors as they opened.

The two men walked in companionable silence out the front doors of the hospital and made their way down the congested New York City sidewalk. At particularly busy crosswalk, Harry turned around and grasped Snape's hand. The older man's eyes widened as he looked at Harry in shock.

"Wouldn't want to lose you, now, sir," Harry quipped good-naturedly.

"This is hardly necessary, Potter," Snape huffed, but did not pull his hand away.

* * *

"You seem well," Harry observed as he twirled a nest of linguine around his fork.

"I seem well? Aren't you the one that just got out of hospital?" Snape said dryly, cutting his lasagna.

"I was in hospital four weeks. You were in Azkaban for ten years," Harry said quietly, sitting back against the plush red leather seat in their booth.

"Ah," Snape inclined his head, "Yes, well, Azkaban has changed considerably since the end of the war, Potter. Mainly thanks to reforms advanced by your old friend, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Dementors are no longer used as guards, which has improved conditions tenfold."

"That's good to hear," Harry replied, taking a sip of his root beer.

"So what possessed you to move to New York?" Snape changed the subject, eyeing Harry curiously.

Harry chuckled darkly, "What _possessed_ me to move to New York? Ha. An apropos question if I ever heard one. Well, for one, I wanted to get away from the British tabloids. If you'll remember, I couldn't leave my flat without being blinded by flash-lamps. But, in retrospect, it was a capricious decision, really. A hallmark of...my illness."

"You must forgive me, Potter. I am not well-versed in muggle psychiatry. Could you...elucidate?"

"I can't believe you're here," Harry ignored Snape's question, "I thought I'd never see you again. I can't believe you would _want_ to see me again."

"It wasn't so much a question of want," Snape said slowly, measuring his words, "I needed to see you. You understand?"

"No," Harry responded coyly, "Could you...elucidate?"

"You brat," Snape inhaled sharply, "Could you act your age, for once? I was worried about you when I heard you were ill and hospitalized in a foreign country without anyone to care for you. I already said as much."

Harry felt a warmth spread through his body at Snape's words.

"I've…"

"Yes?" Snape encouraged him to continue.

"I've waited so long, it seems, for you to stop hating me."

Snape sighed heavily. He had known this particular conversation to be inevitable.

"You do realize that part of that was theatre," Snape looked at Harry with a strange expression.

"The operative part of that phrase being 'part of that'," Harry lamented, cradling his head in his hands.

"I misjudged you, yes, I admit," Snape bit out, "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"When?" Harry asked simply, seeking out the onyx eyes.

"When what?"

"When did you stop hating me?"

Snape broke eye contact with Harry, looking down and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I suppose…" he began, "I started seeing you differently your fifth year, after the Dark Lord had returned. I couldn't let on as much, though. You had not mastered Occlumency. Had I started treating you with a modicum of respect, I would have been made. You know that, Potter."

"What about the four years before that? You had it in for me the very moment I walked into your classroom."

"I was wrong to despise you. You might have been the son of my childhood nemesis, but you were only a boy and had done nothing wrong. It was indecorous of me...to say the least. If I had it to do over again -"

"No," Harry interrupted, "Don't. There is no point wishing we could live our lives over again. We can't. Besides, all's well that ends well, yeah? We did well to survive the war. Who is to say that if you had openly pledged your loyalty to me that the outcome would have been the same?"

"Very true," Snape pursed his lips, "Now, I do believe you've led us off-topic, Potter. What led you to check yourself into a mental institution?"

Harry grabbed the dessert menu from behind the salt-and-pepper shakers and started flipping through its pages with vigour, "I'm thinking something with chocolate in it for dessert. Maybe the tiramisu? Does tiramisu have chocolate in it?"

Snape reached across the table and snatched the menu from Harry.

"There'll be no dessert for you, young man, until you answer my question," Snape cocked an eyebrow and looked at Harry expectantly.

Duly chastened, Harry suddenly got very quiet and averted his gaze from the stern-looking man.

"I don't mean to pry, Potter," Snape's expression softened, "And I think you know me well enough to know I'm not interested in selling your secrets to the Daily Prophet or the Quibbler. I just want to get a sense of -"

"It started after the war," Harry divulged slowly, "Four years after the war ended. I started feeling really sorry for myself, I guess. I was out of work and I felt isolated from the wizarding world, apart from my ongoing run-ins with tabloid reporters. There was this tremendous pain - emotional pain; it came crashing down on me like a tsunami. I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed. I cried almost constantly. My limbs...felt so heavy. I couldn't smile; it was like the muscles in my face didn't work properly anymore. I couldn't cope. For awhile there, I… I wanted to die."

Snape noticed Harry's hand begin to tremble as he reached out to direct the straw from his root beer to his mouth, but said nothing.

"Is that when you sought help?" Snape asked carefully.

"No," Harry shook his head, "That's when something incredible happened. I woke up one day, and the depression had lifted. It was gone. And in its place was this...euphoria...just out of nowhere. The day before I had been virtually catatonic, and then suddenly I had this burst of energy and ideas. That's when I decided to leave for New York. It was early December and I had seen an advertisement for the upcoming Times Square New Year's broadcast on the telly. I applied for a travel visa that day, on a whim. I left for America the day my papers came through. I was in Times Square on New Year's Eve to watch the ball drop."

"Were you alone?" Snape asked inquisitively, "That New Year's Eve?"

"No," Harry admitted sheepishly, "I was...with Draco."

"You were with Draco," Snape repeated, as if he were trying to make sense of it, "And this was in December of 2002?"

Harry nodded, guilt evident in his features, "And...I might have snogged him during Auld Lang Syne."

"Harry Potter!" Snape chided, disbelievingly.

"I know. I'm a terrible person," Harry sighed heavily, "That's why Hermione won't talk to me anymore. Draco broke off the engagement shortly after."

"Is that also why Weasley won't give you the time of day?"

"No," Harry breathed, "It gets worse."

"Go on," Snape sounded intrigued.

"New York is an expensive place to live, yeah? So I blew through my inheritance in the first six months."

"Wait, what?!" Snape knew that the Potters had been fairly well off. From what he had heard through the tabloids, Harry had received his full inheritance of nearly 400 000 pounds on his 17th birthday. How had he spent that much money in less than five years?

"I couldn't earn enough money working minimum wage jobs to cover my rent, so I reached out to my friends. Arthur Weasley offered me a loan. I never paid him back."

"That was almost eight years ago! The Weasleys barely scrape by as it is, Potter! How could you?" Snape admonished, "What of the Black estate? Don't tell me that's all gone, too!"

"I might have made...some sizeable donations to Hogwarts after the war. And the Chudley Cannons. And a few charities…"

"You foolish, foolish boy!" Snape rebuked Harry, standing up and towering over him as he cowered in his seat, "I could take you and -"

Harry gulped audibly as Snape stopped short, perhaps realizing they were in a public setting and people were staring. Collecting himself, the older man took a deep breath and sat back down.

"This is why I didn't want to tell you," Harry choked on a rebel sob, "You have no idea how ashamed I am of what I've done."

"How have you been getting by for the past eight years, Potter?"

Harry looked up at Snape with a haunted expression on his face that said everything he needed to know.

"Jesus H. Christ."

Snape stood up - as if to leave - but then scooted in beside Harry. He sat like a statue, looking straight ahead into the abyss, but let the younger man cry on his shoulder as if it didn't bother him in the least.

"We'll get you sorted, Potter," Snape reassured him after a long while, "But first, let me treat you to some tiramisu."

Harry lifted his head from Snape's shoulder, looking up at him with a timid smile.

"You're good for it?" Harry whispered, an impish expression taking over his countenance.

"I guess I'd better be, haven't I?" Snape rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile playing on his lips.


	4. I Eat My Dinner In The Bath Tub

**Chapter Four: I Eat My Dinner in the Bath Tub***

* _Habits_ , Tove Lo

Quickly ripping off the neon orange eviction notice from the door to his flat before Snape appeared around the corner of the richly carpeted corridor, Harry ushered his guest inside.

"What the actual fuck, Potter?" Snape spat, immediately noticing the shambolic state of the premises.

"You've been swearing a lot lately," Harry observed playfully, "Didn't realize you were such a potty-mouth."

"Well, pardon my French, but my egress from your entryway is being hampered by a pile of dirty laundry up to my neck!"

"Ah! Yes, that's what I like to call Garment Mountain," smiled Harry, opening the refrigerator and taking out a cold can of San Pellegrino soda.

Snape's frown deepened as he advanced upon Harry's living space.

"Pray tell, why is your coffee table littered with drug paraphernalia and empty bottles of booze? Did you go on a bender before your stint at Bellevue?"

"Drug paraphernalia? There can't be anything more there than a ten bag of MJ and a vaporizer. Cool your jets!"

"Cool my jets? Potter, this is unacceptable! It's illegal! Did you ever stop to think what might happen to you if you were arrested? Detained? Here, in a foreign country?"

"This is America, Snape. It's not Indonesia. I'm sure I'd be fine."

"Potter!" Snape growled, turning on him and cornering him in the kitchen, "There are going to be some changes around here - starting now. No more illegal drugs or binge drinking, for starters."

"Yes, dad," Harry joked nervously.

"Ha. Very funny," Snape said sardonically, "I can tell you one thing, Potter. Were I your father and you had behaved in such a delinquent manner, you would be nursing a sore bottom once I'd finished with you."

Harry's eyes grew wide, "You'd wallop me?"

Suddenly, Snape grabbed Harry by the hand and led him over in the direction of the sofa. Harry started to panic. Was Snape seriously going to smack his bottom like an errant child? Pushing aside a pile of men's magazines, Snape released Harry's hand and took a seat.

"Sit, Potter. We need to continue our talk from earlier."

"Oh," Harry inhaled shakily, "Right. That."

"So, am I to understand you're a manic-depressive?"

Harry nodded, "Well, yeah. I'm bipolar. That's what they call it now. You can Google it...if you want. And if you don't know how to do that, I can show you, on your phone. I have WiFi."

Snape looked at Harry strangely, "I may have to take you up on that offer later, Potter, as my technological prowess is, decidedly, limited. However, I do happen to know something of your condition. My father was similarly afflicted. He was also a raging alcoholic. Do you have a drinking problem, Potter?"

"I'm not an alcoholic," Harry assured him, "I drink to excess sometimes, especially when I'm manic, but I can also go months without wanting to drink at all."

Snape nodded, seemingly convinced, "You understand I needed to ask? Either way, there will be no more drinking to excess. You're turning thirty this year. It's time to grow up. The party's over, Potter."

"You're no fun!" Harry pouted, only partially in jest.

"Does that really come as a surprise?" Snape remarked wryly, "You know, Potter, I'm a guest in your home - however unkempt it may be - you're free to eject me from the premises at any time."

"True," Harry muttered.

"Would you like me to leave?" Snape asked softly, "Because I can go if my presence here is unwanted."

Harry looked up at Snape with an anxious expression.

"I thought not," Snape smirked.

"I'm going to my room," Harry said suddenly, standing up.

"Not so quick, Potter," Snape took Harry's hand and pulled him back down, "We have other matters we need to discuss."

"Such as?"

"Such as the occupational hazards of the sex trade," Snape stated in a withering tone, "Have you any idea how much you are putting yourself at risk?"

"I do, actually," Harry rejoined defensively, "And for the record, I never go past third base and we always use protection."

"Is that so?" Snape replied cynically, "Well, we'll be getting you tested anyway. And your days of whoring yourself out to the general public are through."

"I need to make a living, Snape!" Harry protested, "How will I pay...for things?"

"You've been here eight years. You must have a green card, no?"

"Yeah, I'm a permanent resident."

"So find a job, something above-board."

"It won't pay the bills, Snape. I'm not qualified for high-paying jobs. The only work experience I have is as a barista, a busboy and an escort."

"Ah," Snape nodded, as if he expected this.

"So what do I do? Please, if you have any ideas, I'm open to them. Do you really think I enjoy giving head to strange men for a living?"

"I have a proposition to make, Potter."

"A proposition?"

"You need me, Potter," Snape began seriously, a strange glint in his black eyes, "As such, I am willing to move in with you and lend my support to you - my financial and _moral_ support."

"Really? You would do that?" Harry was shocked, "But...what's in it for you?"

"I, too, needed to leave Britain. My infamy, criminal record and restrictions on my practice of magic have rendered it impossible for me to seek employment there. Fortunately, during my stint in Azkaban, I was able to complete a degree in muggle nursing through a correspondence course at the University of Edinburgh. Yet another of Kingsley Shacklebolt's reforms to improve inmate rehabilitation."

"Nursing?" laughed Harry, "You're a nurse? Better work on your bedside manner or you'll be sacked straight off."

Snape smacked Harry hard on the leg, but his lips twitched ever so slightly.

"Ow!" Harry whined, "That hurt! I hope you don't do that to your patients."

"No, only to you, Potter," Snape smirked, "And, for the record, it was either nursing, accounting or...fashion. The prospectus we were offered at Azkaban was decidedly limited in scope."

Harry rolled his eyes, "So you've come to America to be a nurse? How does this plan involve me, though? I mean, what do you need me for?"

Snape snorted, "I can't find work here without a green card, Potter."

"So? Apply for one like I did. It's easy," Harry remarked casually.

"That was eight years ago, Potter. The rules around immigration have tightened up considerably. Not to mention, I am hardly a desirable candidate for permanent residency. I was just released from prison."

"From Azkaban. Surely that doesn't show up in muggle background checks?"

"You'd be surprised," Snape sighed, "The only way around it, that I can see, is to...associate myself with a U.S. citizen or permanent resident."

"Associate yourself? You mean, get married?"

"Yes," Snape said softly.

"So you want me to set you up? I mean, I guess I have some single friends that might be interested...but it would seem kind of wrong to foist you on them just to get a green card… Hmm...but then….then if you were married to someone else, you couldn't very well go on living with me. I don't get it," Harry babbled on naively while Snape watched him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"It's you I'd be marrying, Potter," Snape drawled, "You insufferable dunderhead."

Harry was quiet for a long moment, until he abruptly stood up and headed down the cluttered hallway to his room.

"Potter? Where you do think you're going? Potter!" Snape called after him. He stood up to follow Harry into his bedroom, but then had the door summarily slammed in his face.

Snape put his ear to the door and heard what he sounded like sobbing.

"Potter? Potter, are you crying?"

No answer.

"Potter, open the door!"

Snape sighed heavily when Harry still didn't respond.

"Do you want me to leave, Potter? I'll go if that's what you want. I don't want to impose -"

Harry opened the door a crack. Only one of his luminous emerald eyes shone through, wet with tears.

"Don't go," the young man said in a tremulous voice.

"Potter," Snape said in a strangely gentle voice, "What's the matter?"

"Is that the only reason you've come here? To use me to get a green card?" Harry sobbed.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Potter! Let me in," Snape implored him, "Please."

Harry opened the door the whole way before turning around and diving under his blankets. Snape walked with tentative steps over to the king-sized wrought-iron bed that took up a good portion of the room and sat down on the edge.

"I thought you actually came to America because you wanted to see me," Harry's voice sounded muffled underneath the bedspread, "And I thought you…"

"And you thought what, Potter?" Snape asked softly.

Harry emerged from underneath the covers, still sniffling.

"I thought you, somehow...and I'm not sure quite how….or why...but I thought that maybe….just maybe….you….oh, I don't know!" Harry blushed.

"Articulate as ever, Potter," Snape teased, but there was no malice in his voice, "Out with it, boy. I'm sure it can't be half as bad as the crimes to which you have already confessed."

"I thought you had come to care for me, that's all," Harry confessed miserably, "I'm such a fool."

"No, Potter. I'm the fool," Snape said quietly, causing Harry to look up in surprise, "I didn't know that was something you wanted. I didn't know... it mattered so much to you." _I didn't realize that_ _ **you**_ _cared for_ _ **me**_ _,_ he thought to himself.

"I mean, how did you even know I went with blokes? I certainly wasn't out at Hogwarts. I haven't been open about it since I moved here and got the Daily Prophet and Quibbler off my tail."

"I had no intention of asking you to consummate the marriage, Potter. I simply thought it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement," Snape scoffed, much to Harry's chagrin, "But, as it happens, Draco Malfoy might have let slip that you preferred the company of men. He neglected to mention, however, how exactly he had come about this information."

"A marriage of convenience, then?" Harry sighed, sounding deflated.

"No, I wouldn't call it that," Snape sounded uncharacteristically flustered.

"Well then, explain it to me," Harry insisted, "Because I'm really confused."

"I don't simply want to be roommates, Potter. I want to provide for you," Snape intoned softly, "I want to assist you, help you to get a better handle on things. You clearly need it." He gestured to Harry's bedside stand, littered with soda cans and candy wrappers.

"But why? I mean other than to get a green card, why would you want to do that? I'm sure I don't need to tell you there's no love lost between us."

Snape looked at him strangely for a long while and then began massaging his temple.

"You'll have to forgive me, Potter. I'm not...good at these things," Snape began, his voice strained, "Suffice it to say that I have, for quite some time, found myself feeling oddly protective of you. Perhaps it comes from watching over you at Albus' behest for all those years - I don't know. That, and, you and I have both had our crosses to bear...especially now that we're both in exile from the wizarding world. I find myself feeling… I feel comfortable with you, Potter. I'd never thought I'd be saying such a thing, but, here we are."

At that, Harry wiped away his tears and sat up next to Snape on the side of the bed.

"I feel at home with you too, Professor," Harry said, wrapping his arm around the older man's shoulders.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that," Snape complained, his voice thick with something akin to affection.

* * *

_Acknowledgement of historical anachronisms: *I'm aware that neither gay marriage nor same-sex partner sponsored green card applications were the law of the land in New York in 2010, but given that this is an alternate universe fan fiction, let's just go with it, shall we?*_


	5. We Were Born Sick

_Starting from this chapter forward, there are going to be descriptions of punishment spankings and possibly sexual content among consenting adults. If this does not appeal to you, please stop reading now. Thank you!_

**Chapter Five: We Were Born Sick***

_*Take Me to Church_ , Hozier

A slight tremor travelled through Harry's hands as he held the marriage license up to the light. He could not believe that twenty-four hours later, he would be married to the former Potions Master.

"Is that from the lithium?" Snape inquired casually, picking away at some sushi take-out.

"Huh? What?" Harry stammered, surprised by Snape's question. He put down the marriage license on the table.

"Your hand tremor, is it from the lithium?"

"Oh...yeah. Probably," Harry blushed, embarrassed, "They increased my dose when I was in hospital. The tremor's usually temporary. How did you know I was taking lithium?"

"Medicine cabinet," Snape stated, "This morning when we were cleaning."

"With everything else we had to do, you found time to wipe off my pill bottles?" Harry scoffed.

"I like to be thorough," Snape drawled, "I see you also have scripts for an antidepressant and an antipsychotic. What exactly does your pill schedule look like?"

"I'm meant to take the lithium three times a day, one pill each time. I take my antidepressants - three pills - all in one go with my breakfast. The antipsychotic is for me to take on an as needed basis only. It's for if I get really agitated, can't sleep, that sort of thing."

"Ah," Snape nodded, "And do you see a psychiatrist on an outpatient basis, now that you're out of hospital?"

"Of course," Harry confirmed.

Snape stood and stalked across the freshly scrubbed tile floor to put his take-out container in the garbage.

"Ready to tackle Garment Mountain, young man?" Snape asked Harry, "It's a wonder you still have any clothes left to wear."

"It's now or never, I suppose," Harry sighed, grabbing a jug of laundry detergent out of the hall closet and stuffing some of his dirty clothes into an extra large laundry bag.

"The machines are downstairs?" Snape wondered aloud.

"Yeah. Listen, I can handle the laundry if you want to busy yourself with something else up here," Harry said. He really did not want Snape handling his dirty underpants and boxers!

"All right," Snape agreed, "I'll keep working away at the living room."

"Thanks," Harry smiled gratefully, "See you in a bit."

* * *

When Harry returned to the apartment twenty minutes later, he found Snape sitting at the kitchen table shuffling through a pile of papers. As he set down a tray of Starbucks coffees on the counter, he noticed the deep frown on Snape's face.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

Snape looked up with a scowl, "For starters, Potter, where have you been? It shouldn't take twenty minutes to pop in a load of laundry."

"I had to fill up my laundry card at the rental office, and while I was out I got us coffee," Harry explained, "Sorry I took so long."

"Sit down, Potter," Snape growled, "You've got some explaining to do."

Harry obeyed and sat down across from Snape at the table.

"Potter, we're supposed to get married tomorrow," Snape began angrily, "When, exactly, were you planning to tell me about _**this**_?"

Snape laid out Harry's most recent credit card bills on the table, all five of them.

"Thirty-five thousand dollars, Potter! That is an obscene amount of credit card debt," Snape lectured, "An obscene amount of credit card debt I will inherit, should I become your husband. How could you? How could you not _tell me_ something like this?"

Harry closed his eyes. He could feel his heart pounding through his chest.

"Is there anything else I need to know, Potter? What else have you been keeping from me?"

"Th...there is," Harry stuttered, beginning to hyperventilate.

"Well, out with it, boy!" Snape appeared enraged, his nostrils flaring.

"I'm….thr...three months b...behind on my r...rent," Harry blubbered.

"And how much is your monthly rent, Potter?" Snape interrogated him sternly.

"Th..three thousand th..three hundred," Harry covered his face in his hands, his tears pooling on the table in front of him.

"That's another ten thousand dollars, Potter!" Snape barked, pounding the table with his fists and causing Harry to flinch, "How is it you haven't been evicted yet?"

"I...I am being evic...evicted," Harry sobbed, "I have until next Thursday to pay or qu..quit."

"What am I going to do with you, Potter?" Snape intoned dangerously, "You're completely undisciplined. You're out of control."

"I know," Harry whispered, looking down at his lap.

Snape stood up abruptly, gathered his trenchcoat from the hall closet and summarily left the apartment, slamming the door.

* * *

"Well, Potter, lucky for you one of us didn't spend his entire inheritance on skunkweed and hooch," Snape called out as he returned one hour later, "I've been to the rental office to pay off your back rent. Potter?"

He found Harry in the kitchen, where he had left him. But there was one striking difference. In front of Harry on the table was a black leather strap. Snape stopped cold in his tracks.

"Harry?" Snape addressed him in a gentle, yet strangled, voice, "What is this?"

"It's a strap, sir," Harry said quietly.

"But what...why?" Snape sputtered.

"It's for you, sir. To punish me," Harry's cheeks burned red with embarrassment, "I know I deserve it. I think you know that, too. You've wanted to smack me the moment you walked in here yesterday...maybe even before."

"Have you been punished in this manner before, Harry?" Snape asked, picking up the strap to examine the instrument of chastisement.

"Yes, sir," Harry shifted in his seat in anxious anticipation, "My last boyfriend...he bent me over the table and strapped me when I misbehaved."

"And you agreed to this?" Snape inquired, "It was consensual?"

Harry nodded, "Yes. I was submissive to him. He was my Dom."

"And am I to understand that you would like to pursue a similar relationship with me?" Snape cocked an eyebrow, a knowing expression on his face.

"Yes, sir," Harry gulped, "If that's all right with you."

Snape laughed then, an unrestrained guffaw that unnerved Harry.

"If it's all right with me? Trust me, Potter, I would like nothing more than to turn you over my knee and give you the spanking you so richly deserve. But not before we set some ground rules. I want to make sure we understand each other, Potter."

"Yes, sir."

"You say that your former lover bent you over the table and strapped you," Snape recapitulated on what Harry had said, "Is this the only form of punishment he used on you?"

"For the most part, sir. Sometimes he would use his hand, but not often."

"He strapped you on your bottom, I assume?"

Harry blushed, nodding, "He usually made me pull down my trousers and underpants as well."

"It sounds as if your Dom was very strict," Snape observed, "Did you have a safeword?"

"Yes, but I never had to use it," Harry said, "I deserved every punishment he gave me."

"How often did you find yourself on the receiving end of this strap?" Snape asked, smacking it lightly against his wide palm.

"At least once a week," Harry admitted, wringing his hands.

"It sounds as if you were quite naughty," Snape smirked, "Not surprising, really. I've always thought you needed a firm hand. What types of offenses earned you a bottom warming?"

"Overspending," Harry bit his lip.

"Naturally," Snape drawled, "What else?"

"Forgetting to take my meds...not cleaning up after myself around the flat…"

Snape nodded, "And did this Dom of yours know you were working as an escort?"

"Yes, sir," Harry continued to fidget in his seat, "He also worked in the industry. In a sense, anyway. He starred in pornographic films."

Snape's eyes widened, "Please tell me you weren't foolish enough to do such a thing, Potter!"

"No, sir. I didn't want to risk it. Not with my notoriety. Can you imagine the headlines? Harry Potter: Former Boy Saviour Turned Pornstar?"

Snape gave a sigh of relief, "I agree that overspending, neglecting to take your medication, and failure to clean up after yourself are misdeeds deserving of a smacking. I would also add to that list: doing illegal drugs, drinking alcohol without my permission, prostitution, lying, and any other sort of direct defiance."

"OK," Harry said quietly, "I can agree to that."

"In terms of money, Potter, it is clear you cannot be trusted with credit cards. After you have been punished here today, I will be confiscating all of your cards. If I catch you with a credit card after today, I will bend you over the arm of the sofa and strap your bare bottom until you can't sit comfortably for a week. Is that understood?"

Harry gaped at him, "Yes, sir."

"Now, how did your Dom keep track of your medications?"

"We used a pill organizer. That way, he could tell if I had taken them or not."

"We will set that up tonight," Snape decided, "Now, Potter. You must understand that I may do things a bit differently than your former Dom. I do not like the idea of strapping you for every misdemeanor. A strapping is a severe punishment that should be reserved for the worst offences. For smaller transgressions, I shall be turning you over my knee for a sound spanking. I may use my hand or another implement. Tell me, Potter, do you happen to have a thick wooden ruler or a paddle brush?"

Harry's bottom clenched involuntarily at the mention of the implements, "I don't have a ruler or hairbrush, but I do have a wooden spoon, sir."

"That will do," Snape nodded, pushing out his chair from the table, "Harry, I need you to fetch me the wooden spoon."

"Aren't you going to strap me, sir?" Harry asked, surprised that Snape didn't have a more severe punishment in mind.

"While your transgressions, to date, have been appalling, and you certainly deserve a good licking, I do not feel comfortable punishing you so severely the night before we are to be wed. You need to be able to walk up those city hall steps, after all," Snape smirked, before reverting to a serious tone, "Fetch me the wooden spoon now, Harry."

As Harry stood, his legs felt like Jello. He could not believe that he had volunteered to be spanked by Snape, of all people! Then again, the man was about to become his husband and if he wouldn't take him in hand, who would?

Harry opened the drawer housing the wooden spoon, that up until then had been used only for culinary purposes. He picked up the spoon; it felt heavy in his hands. Even though he knew that the strap was a harsher punishment, he was nervous to be spanked over Snape's knee with the spoon. He had never been smacked over someone's lap before, and never with an implement other than the strap.

He walked slowly back to the dining area where Snape was seated in an armless chair. Harry noticed that he had rolled up his shirt sleeve of one arm to better expose his large, manly hand. Snape crooked his finger, summoning Harry to his side. Biting his lip, Harry handed Snape the wooden spoon. Snape put the wooden spoon on the floor next to the chair, where it was easily accessible.

"Safe word?" Snape looked at Harry expectantly.

"Zoloft," Harry blurted out.

"Seriously?" Snape chuckled, "All right then."

"Sir, I...just wanted to say that I know that what I did was wrong. I spent way too much money and I've jeopardized our future together. Also I shouldn't have done cannabis, drank to excess or performed fellatio for money. Most importantly, I shouldn't have kept any secrets from you when we are about to get married."

"That is quite the list of offenses, Mr. Potter. Something tells me you are going to be a very sorry boy by the time I am done with you. Lower your trousers."

"And my pants?" Harry asked quietly, embarrassed.

"No. Just your trousers... for now," Snape said evenly.

No sooner had Harry pulled his trousers down to his knees had Snape taken him and tipped him unceremoniously over his lap. With one arm, the older man pulled Harry tightly against his torso. Harry wondered how many times Snape had done this before and if it had been in the capacity of a Dom or as a professor. He certainly seemed to know what he was doing.

"Harry Potter, you have been a very naughty boy," Snape scolded dourly, patting Harry's pants-clad bum, "We'll just have to see if a good old-fashioned spanking can't cure you of your bad behaviour."

With that, Snape raised his large hand and began smacking Harry's bottom vigorously. Harry was shocked by the ferocity with which Snape was spanking him. _He must really be angry with me_ , Harry thought, tears beginning to form in his eyes. With the briskness of the spanking, Harry started to squirm over Snape's knee. At that, Snape paused for a moment, but Harry knew he wasn't done. He was probably getting the wooden spoon, thought Harry.

Instead, Harry felt Snape's fingers in the waistband of his underpants. He whimpered at that and exclaimed, in spite of himself, "Please, no!"

Snape stopped what he was doing and clouted Harry hard across the bottom, "You do not say 'no' to me, young man. In future, if you do not want to find yourself upturned over my knee with your bare bottom in the air, you ought to behave yourself."

With that, Snape tugged Harry's pants to his knees and surveyed his handiwork. Harry's bum was already a light pink. Harry could feel Snape's eyes on his bottom. He was totally humiliated to have his former professor see his bare backside. Although he had essentially asked for this punishment, it still felt like a violation.

Snape resumed the hand spanking, noticing that Harry still had some baby fat on his bottom that jiggled with each smack. Soon, Harry's bum had turned a dark pink and the naughty boy began to kick his legs in protest. The sound of slaps on Harry's bare seat reverberated loudly off the walls of the small apartment.

Snape paused again, this time to pick up the wooden spoon from the floor.

"Mr. Potter," Snape began in an authoritarian voice, "I am going to spank your bare bottom with this spoon until I feel you have learned your lesson. You would do well to remember this punishment next time you are tempted to do something...naughty."

Harry cried out in pain as the wooden spoon was applied sternly to his reddening bum. Soon tears were flowing continuously from Harry's eyes and he was bucking on Snape's lap, trying to evade the stinging blows. Harry knew he deserved this spanking, but he was overcome with emotional shame and physical soreness. The spanking had reduced him to a childlike state; he felt like a recalcitrant schoolboy getting smacked over his headmaster's knee. After what seemed like an eternity, Harry went limp over Snape's lap. Snape delivered twenty more hard smacks to Harry's sit-spot, eliciting a broken cry from the well-punished boy. He dropped the wooden spoon on the floor and just held Harry, upturned over his lap, for a few moments. The boy continued to sob quietly.

"Your punishment is concluded, Harry. You may rise and pull up your pants and trousers."

Harry stood up shakily, wincing when he pulled his pants up over his throbbing posterior. After he had righted his trousers, he turned to look at Snape who was watching him with an uncharacteristically tender expression on his face. He was still sitting in the chair where he had delivered Harry's punishment.

Rubbing his smarting bottom, Harry started to walk towards his bedroom.

"Harry?" Snape called mildly, "Come back here, please."

Harry turned on his heel and walked back to the kitchen, still sniffling.

"Harry, are you all right?" Snape asked seriously, trying to make eye contact with the subdued young man.

Harry nodded through his tears, "Yes, Severus. I'm OK."

Snape smiled warmly at him, "That's the first time you've called me by my given name."

This rare smile was lost on Harry, who was blinded by his tears.

"Are...you still angry with me?" Harry asked in a small voice.

"No, Harry, I'm not still angry with you," Snape said softly, "You were a brave boy to ask me to punish you and you took your spanking so well."

Harry blushed at the mention of his punishment, "I'll do my best to behave from now on, sir."

"See that you do," Snape said sternly, standing up, "Failing that, I'll be here to hold you to account."

"I know, sir," Harry inclined his head.

"Mr. Potter, you know I only discipline you because I care about you."

Harry's head shot up and he looked at Snape with wide eyes.

"Do you understand what I am saying, Mr. Potter?" Snape looked down at Harry expectantly.

"Yes, sir," Harry smiled brightly, throwing his arms around Snape's middle in an impromptu hug, "I...I care about you too, Severus."

"I know you do, Potter," Snape sighed deeply, wrapping his arms about the young man's diminutive frame, "I know you do."


	6. My Sweet Prince

**Chapter Six: My Sweet Prince***

* _My Sweet Prince_ , Placebo

"Would you stop wriggling about?" Snape snapped at Harry as the two sat on the city hall steps, "Mundungus will soon be here. I don't want him to think I'm in the habit of buggering my former students…at least not to the point of injury."

"He's coming to be a witness to our _wedding_ , Severus. He's going to think you're buggering me regardless. Besides, do you really care so much what _Mundungus Fletcher_ thinks? I know you spent some time with him in Azkaban, but he's a total lowlife."

Snape snorted, "I wouldn't throw stones from glass houses, Potter. Have you or have you not been supporting yourself through illegal activities for the past eight years?"

"Yeah, well, he's also a coward! Mad-Eye Moody would still be alive, if not for Dung deserting him."

"Perhaps," Snape conceded.

Harry sulked, "My bum hurts."

"Potter!" Snape hissed, "That's not helping matters."

Harry looked up at him, his lips set in a pout.

"If you don't like sitting on a sore bottom, then you best learn to behave yourself, you infuriating brat," Snape whispered menacingly in Harry's ear, "Act your age, Potter."

"I'm sorry," Harry blushed, "I didn't mean to be a brat."

"Yes, you did," Snape smirked, "You love to aggravate me. You're constantly pestering me, trying to get a reaction."

"It's only because I like you!" Harry blurted out, before covering his mouth with both hands, a horrified look on his face.

"Oh, Potter," Snape tittered mildly, "You think I didn't know that? You wear your heart on your sleeve, you silly boy."

Harry still looked quite flustered. He hadn't realized that his feelings for Snape were so conspicuous - and the man likely didn't return his affections. Harry didn't even know if Snape was gay! He was probably only offering to look after him because he still held a torch for his mum. Harry started to wring his hands and bite his lip.

"Harry, it's all right," Snape said softly, reaching over and placing his hand tentatively on Harry's knee. Harry flinched at the unexpected touch.

"Sorry, sir," Harry apologized quickly, "It's not you...it's my reflexes...they're bit overresponsive."

"The lithium?" Snape asked quietly.

"Yes, I think so," Harry sighed.

"Severus! Harry!" Mundungus Fletcher called from the bottom of the stone steps.

"Hello, Mundungus," Snape greeted him, "Thank you for accommodating us."

"Not a problem," the ruddy little man replied, "As yeh know, I was just in the area meself - conductin' some...uh... business and whatnawt."

"Hi Dung," Harry acknowledged the former Order member reluctantly.

"Harry," Mundungus nodded, "Truly sorry about Alastor, I am. Such a bleedin' shame. My fault, at that. Effin' sissy I was that night."

Harry wanted badly to make a smart remark in response to Mundungus' belated apology, but a stern look from Snape compelled him to bite his tongue.

"Shall we?" Snape gestured to the entrance to the grand building, and the three men continued their ascent up the steps.

Harry noticed that Mundungus smelt strongly of bourbon and was stumbling a bit up the stairs.

"He's drunk!" Harry whispered to Snape as they walked into city hall.

"No shit," Snape spat, "Let's just hope the officiant doesn't notice."

* * *

"Now, do you gentlemen have rings you would like to exchange?" the officiant asked, eyeing the odd couple expectantly.

Harry and Snape looked at each other with an expression of mutual amusement.

"Er...no," Harry responded awkwardly, "We...uh...don't do jewelery, really."

Snape snorted, shaking his head.

"And do you have any personal vows you would like included in the ceremony?"

"No, uh, don't you have a script we can read from...or that you can read from... or something?" Harry asked, increasingly flustered by the whole affair.

"We would like the ceremony to be as simple and expedient as possible, please, Madam," Snape added, "Our witness has to be somewhere else within the hour."

Mundungus shrugged his shoulders with an air of inebriated nonchalance.

"All right, then," the smartly-dressed lady simpered, "Let us begin. We are gathered here today to witness the formal joining of Severus Tobias Snape and Harry James Potter in legal matrimony according to the custom and law prevailing in the State of New York."

Turning to Snape, she continued, "Repeat after me, please. I do solemnly declare that I do not know of any lawful impediment why I, Severus Tobias Snape, may not be joined in matrimony to Harry James Potter."

"No...lawful...impediment, no," Snape sneered while Harry struggled not to burst out laughing.

"Repeat it verbatim, please," the officiant stated firmly. Snape did so, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Somehow Harry managed to do the same, trying his best to school his expression into one of solemnity.

"Now, please face each other and repeat your vows," the stately woman entreated them, and then, once again turning to Snape, instructed, "Repeat after me, please: I call upon Mundungus Fletcher to witness that I, Severus Snape, do take you, Harry Potter, to be my lawful wedded husband."

Snape tried to avoid eye contact with Harry, who was laughing quietly across from him.

"Quite the romantic sentiment, that is," Snape muttered, before doing as the officiant asked. Harry did the same, while trying to look Snape in the eye, but the man seemed more interested in counting the ceiling tiles than gazing upon his young mate.

"I, Elizabeth Ford, by the virtue of the powers vested in me by the State of New York, do hereby pronounce you, Severus Tobias Snape and Harry James Potter, to be married. I wish you long life, happiness and prosperity, and may the vows you made to each other today, sustain you forever. You may celebrate your marriage with a kiss."

Harry's eyes widened. A kiss! Snape would likely smack him upside the head if he tried to snog him. At that moment, Snape's unreadable obsidian eyes met his frightened green orbs. Before Harry knew it, Snape was advancing towards him, leaning down and giving him a chaste peck on the lips. After he got over the shock, Harry took to blushing madly while Snape looked down at him with a bemused look on his face.

"At this time, the wedded parties and their witness will sign the Official Marriage Register," the officiant declared.

Snape and Harry made haste to get the documents signed, as did Mundungus, though his signature was completely illegible and a full three centimeters above the line on which he was meant to sign.

"Best of luck to yeh mates!" Mundungus smiled, then turned to Harry, "An' best of luck on yer weddin' night, young man."

Harry turned seven shades of red. Snape wasn't really planning on consummating their marriage tonight, was he?

"Thank you, Mundungus," Snape shooed him off, "I assure you Harry will be well taken care of."

"I'm glad that's over with," Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the hoodlum stumbled away.

Snape smirked, "Oh, but it's only just beginning, my dear husband."

"You...you kissed me!" Harry childishly accused him, "I didn't think you actually would. I'm sure we could have gotten out of it somehow."

"Wouldn't want to arouse the suspicion of Ms. Ford," Snape drawled, "I think she might have already suspected something untoward, what with me being twenty years your senior, our witness being plastered, and the fact that we laughed through nearly the entire ceremony."

" _Still_ ," Harry said, continuing to be in disbelief that his lips had touched those of the former Potions Master.

"So what? I gave you a peck on the lips. Don't read too much into it, you poor little fool. Would you have rathered me give you a smack on the arse?" Snape said with a wolfish grin.

"Not in public!" Harry exclaimed guilelessly, before once again covering this mouth with his hands.

Snape glared at the young man, but there was no rancour to his scowl. Secretly, he was finding Harry's gaffes to be quite endearing - if not unsettling. Did the brat truly like him that much? Merlin forbid, was Potter _attracted_ to him? The very thought terrified Snape. True, he had just married the brat. But _still_!

The charade would be a whole lot easier if there weren't feelings involved.


	7. And I, Your Willing Victim

**Chapter Seven: And I, Your Willing Victim***

* _Just Give Me a Reason_ , Pink

On their wedding night, Harry loitered in the doorway to his bedroom for a long while, watching Snape read _The New York Times_ on the living room sofa.

"You know, muggles read most of their news on the Internet now," Harry remarked casually, "One of these days, I'm going to get around to showing you how to use Google. It's really quite amazing."

"I'm sure," Snape curled his lips as he continued to flip the pages of the newspaper, without looking up.

"The sofa reclines, you know. I can do it for you, if you like," Harry offered, "It might be more comfortable for reading, or watching the telly."

"I'm fine, thank you," Snape declined politely.

"Can I get you anything? A snack? Or a beverage?"

Snape set down the paper, sighing in exasperation.

"What is it you really want, you infuriating child?" he asked wearily.

"I'm not a child," Harry grumbled, "I'm your husband."

Snape rolled his eyes, "I do apologize, my beloved bridegroom."

"Sorry to have disturbed you, sir," said Harry dejectedly, returning to his bedroom. Snape clearly wasn't interested in joining him.

Some time later, before he retired for the night on the sofa, Snape peeked into Harry's bedroom and saw the young man curled up on the far side of the bed, facing the wall. Harry hadn't been lying earlier when he told him there was plenty of room left over in the king-sized bed. But there was no way he was going to climb in under the covers next to the Potter brat. No, the sofa would be just fine. Like all of Harry's things (that he had indubitably purchased on his charge cards), the sofa was top-of-the-line and very comfortable.

* * *

"Potter, allow me to put it plainly," Snape said two days later, "You're going to need to get a job. It could take several months to get my green card and we need the money - sooner rather than later."

"I could reapply to the coffee shop where I used to work," Harry offered, "But, like I said, it's not very good money."

"What about applying to be a server - a waiter? Say, at that nice Italian place we went to when I first arrived? You would earn gratuities that way."

"That's not a bad idea," Harry smiled at him, "I've applied to jobs like that before without much success, but that was before I had any customer service or restaurant experience under my belt. Maybe I'll have more luck this time."

"So, how does one go about applying to those jobs?" Snape asked.

"Well, first I'd have to update my CV, my resume," Harry explained, "Then, some restaurants might have online applications and others I might have to visit in person to apply."

"Ah," Snape nodded, "So, Potter, you need to do that today. I'll take on your share of the household chores so you can focus on getting your CV and your applications in order."

"Thanks," Harry grinned, heading to his bedroom where he could work on his laptop computer.

_Two Hours Later_

"Potter? Making progress?" Snape asked, poking his head into Harry's bedroom.

"Uh...a bit. Having a bit of difficulty locating my resume on my hard drive."

"You haven't even found it yet?" Snape barked, "It's been two hours. Focus, Potter!"

_One Hour Later_

"Potter! What the hell are you doing?" Snape snarled, gesturing to the laptop screen where two male singers in a state of undress were imploring their listeners not to "trust a ho."

"Listening to music helps me concentrate," Harry claimed innocently.

"You call that music?!" Snape snapped, "If don't see some progress the next time I come in, Potter, there are going to be consequences."

Harry gulped audibly, knowing what that meant. As Snape left the room he scrambled to add the necessary lines to his resume. Agh! He had to look up the telephone number of his last workplace. And somehow that segued into him playing _Happy Wheels_.

_Forty-Five Minutes Later_

A firm smack to his backside broke him out of his trance.

"Ow!" Harry cried, sitting up so that his bottom was no longer accessible.

"I am very disappointed in you, Harry," Snape reprimanded him, "I thought I could count on you to act like an adult and take on some responsibility, but that trust was clearly misplaced."

"I'm sorry," Harry began to sob, upset that Snape was so cross with him, "I'm sorry I got so distracted."

"You've acted very immaturely today," Snape continued to lecture him, "It seems only fitting that you be punished like the child you are. You will start by standing for fifteen minutes in the corner, over there. I want you to think about how lazy and disobedient you've been and about how far you have fallen short of your potential."

Harry stood up and Snape sent him stumbling towards the corner with another hard slap to his bum. Harry cried quietly for most of the fifteen minutes, feeling very ashamed of himself. Here he was - twenty-nine years old, unemployed, spending his days aimlessly surfing the Internet, and now making his husband punish him as if he were a toddler.

"Come here, Potter," Snape ordered him evenly. The austere man was sitting on the edge of Harry's bed, holding what appeared to be some type of shoe.

Harry nervously left the corner to stand before his older partner.

"I'm sorry I let you down, sir," Harry said quietly, "I can do better."

"I have no doubt your remorse is sincere," Snape admitted carefully, "But there is still the matter of your chastisement. Your childish behaviour has earned you a trip over my knee. I am going to spank you, bare-bottomed, with this slipper. Maybe a sore bum will remind you to act your age. Lower your trousers and pants, Harry."

Harry's cheeks burned with shame as he pulled down his slacks and briefs to his knees. Without being asked, he prostrated himself across Snape's lap, his torso supported by the bed and his legs hanging off to the side.

Snape did not wait long before bringing the slipper down sharply on Harry's pale, quivering bottom. Harry quickly began to whimper and kick his legs as Snape continued to assault his bum at a furious pace. Snape remarked that Harry's buttocks had taken on a rosy hue.

"Please, sir! Stop! I'll be good!" Harry cried, his bottom stinging terribly.

"You'll be good?" Snape questioned skeptically, "Good boys don't need to be spanked in order to mind their elders. What kind of boy has to be slippered on his bare bum to get him to behave, Potter?" Snape landed a particularly hard swat to the undercurve of Harry's bottom.

"A b..bad boy, sir," Harry wept pathetically, humiliated by this particular line of questioning, "I'm sorry I was bad. You're right to punish me. I deserve it."

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Potter. Twenty-nine years old and having to be spanked like a naughty child," Snape scolded Harry relentlessly, while continuing to apply the slipper to the boy's reddened bottom.

Snape ended the spanking with two ringing slaps to Harry's upper thighs, delivered by hand.

"You're to go back to the corner, Potter, and put your hands on your head. Your trousers and pants stay down. I want you to contemplate why your irresponsible actions made it necessary for me to punish you in such a stern manner."

Harry had never felt so embarrassed in his life, standing in the corner of his bedroom with his well-spanked bottom on display. As he stood there, mulling over the whole degrading experience in his head, he soon realized something even more mortifying.

He was getting hard. Scratch that. He _was_ hard.

Snape would never let him live this down.


	8. My Heart Has Started To Separate

**Chapter Eight: My Heart Has Started to Separate***

* _Look After You_ , The Fray

Snape was concerned when he re-entered the bedroom and Harry was still crying brokenly in the corner. Surely he hadn't smacked the boy too hard? Or was the boy having a true crisis of conscience?

"Harry? What's the matter?" Snape heard himself asking in kind voice, "You've already been punished, you needn't feel guilty anymore. Come, pull up your trousers and talk to me."

As Harry bent down to pull up his pants and trousers, Snape couldn't help but to notice a stream of milky-white fluid that had snaked down the boy's legs and pooled between his stockinged feet.

"Ah," Snape smirked, "I see you really have been a naughty boy, Mr. Potter."

"I'm sorry, sir!" Harry blubbered, "I...I didn't mean for this to happen. This has never happened to me before."

Snape did a double take, "Potter, you cannot seriously mean to tell me that you've never gotten off on this sort of thing before. I'm quite certain you're a masochist."

Harry blushed, "Huh? What's a masocyst?"

"A masochist, Potter. For pity's sake, boy. Come sit next to me," Snape sat down on Harry's bed and patted the space next to him, "I'll clean up your little mishap later. We need to talk."

"OK," Harry agreed meekly, sitting next to Snape, "I can clean up my mess, though."

"Potter, it's no trouble," Snape assured him as the young man burst into tears again.

"You must think I'm a pervert," Harry cried, "I'm so ashamed."

"Don't be ridiculous, Potter," Snape scoffed, "Masochism is a very common paraphilia. All it means is that you are sexually aroused by physical pain and humiliation."

"Oh my God," Harry covered his face in his hands, "This isn't happening."

"Harry," Snape snorted, "I honestly can't believe you were an escort. Your naivety rivals that of a first-year Hufflepuff student. Not to mention your STI test came back clean."

"I told you I was careful," Harry murmured.

"I suppose I just assumed you understood the intricacies of a relationship involving dominance and submission, where you had previously engaged in such activities. You didn't honestly think your punishments have been purely corrective in nature?"

"You spanked me because I was bad," Harry said seriously, "Right? I need to be disciplined, to be…"

Snape could not take it anymore. The young man's incorruptibility, combined with his bashful demeanour, were undoing him. Why did this adult version of Harry Potter have to be so goddamn _cute_?! Snape couldn't help himself; he put his arm around the helpless boy and held him close. Harry leaned into the touch, resting his head against Snape's broad chest.

"Sweet boy," Snape began, continuing to hold Harry tightly, "You are not bad. I am sorry you took that comment to heart. You need to remember, Harry, that during a scene it is normal for the dominant partner to scold his submissive. While there may certainly be some truth to what is being said, and punishments are often given for real offenses, some aspects of the chastisement or reprimand may be amplified to increase the submissive's sense of humiliation."

"Oh," Harry remarked innocently, "Because the submissive likes to be humiliated...deep down?"

"Exactly, Harry," Snape affirmed, "But never forget that the submissive is able to stop the scene at any time by using his safe word - for any reason. It is vital that you let me know if I have ever gone too far, or crossed a line. I would...never…forgive myself if I thought I had truly hurt you."

"You never did," Harry said in a small voice, "I was just so worried about disappointing you. I...like you a lot."

"You have a heart of gold, Harry Potter," Snape sighed, "I only wish that I could give you everything you deserve, be who you need me to be."

Harry screwed up his face in confusion, although Snape didn't see it. Be who he needed him to be? Wasn't he already that person?

"Harry," Snape began carefully, "You don't have to answer this, but were you physically disciplined as a child?"

"My Aunt Marge thrashed me a few times," Harry whispered, "She took a cane to the seat of my trousers."

"What did you do to deserve such harsh punishment?"

"It varied. Sometimes it was because I beat my cousin Dudley at a game. I got blamed for a lot of things that Dudley did."

"That hardly seems fair," Snape sniffed, "Your Aunt Marge sounds like she was quite a malicious woman."

"My Aunt Petunia preferred to hit me over the head with a frying pan. Once, she pressed my hand against a hot element because I burnt the bacon," Harry reminisced sadly.

"That bitch," Snape spat dangerously, "How dare she treat you like that? Her own nephew? Her sister's boy?"

"She didn't like magic," Harry said quietly.

"How about Vernon, that oaf? Did he ever lay his hands on you?" Snape growled.

Harry cuddled closer to Snape, pressing his face against his husband's sweater.

"Harry? What did he do?" Snape asked again, sounding apprehensive.

"He touched me," Harry said in a trembling voice, "And he...made me touch him."

"He molested you?" Snape hissed, trying to control his anger, "I'd kill him if the son of a bitch weren't already six feet under. Harry, I'm so, so sorry. I wish...I wish you had felt as if you could tell me, then. I was a right bastard, but I never would have let you continue to be abused so egregiously. If I had a time-turner, I swear -"

"No," Harry stopped him, "We can't change the past...so there's no point wishing we could. It's OK, Severus. I'm OK now."

Snape surprised him by pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"No one is going to hurt you like that ever again," Snape stated decisively, "I'm going to protect you. And, Harry, I want you to know that you don't owe me anything...my protection is in no way contingent upon us carrying on with our dynamic. If you're not comfortable with me spanking you, or scolding you….you need to let me know. I won't be angry."

"I like it when you spank me," Harry blushed.

"Well," Snape smirked, "I guess we've determined that much."

"No, I mean, it makes me feel safe," Harry admitted, flustered, "You said you do it because you care, right?"

"Yes, that's right," Snape acknowledged.

"Well, good luck cleaning my cum off the carpet, then," Harry teased, before running out of the room like the mischievous schoolboy Severus once knew.

"Brat," Snape grumbled, "The things I do for you!"


	9. Taste in Men

**Chapter Nine: Taste in Men***

_*Taste in Men_ , Placebo

The next two weeks passed without incident. Harry got a job as a server at a high-end French restaurant in SoHo and began working long hours. Snape would never admit it, but he missed having the brat around the apartment in the afternoons and evenings. When Harry was at the flat, he was on his best behaviour: taking his medication regularly, abstaining from alcohol and street drugs, and it very much seemed that he had left his life as a sex worker behind him. For his part, Snape did his best to keep the apartment tidy and had taken to making brunch for Harry every morning before he headed off to work. On one rare evening that Harry had been off work, he showed Snape how to use his computer and, of course, how to use Google. It would seem that they were a very happy couple. Well, except for the fact that they _weren't_ a couple.

Snape continued to sleep on the couch, despite Harry's recurrent invitations to join him in bed, or to at least take turns sleeping on the sofa. Harry found himself quite put out by Snape's refusal to sleep next to him. _Would it really be so awful?_ Harry wondered, _Is it because I told him that I like him? Is he scared I'll take advantage? Doesn't he feel safe with me?_

Late one night when Harry got home from work and Snape had already fallen asleep on the couch, Harry saw his laptop lying open on the coffee table. He picked it up to take into his bedroom when he noticed the website Snape had open.

It was porn! Snape had been watching porn! And not just any porn...lesbian porn! Harry quickly closed the laptop and put it back on the coffee table. He felt his heart sinking. _Bloody hell_ , he thought. It all made sense, now. Snape must be straight! That must be why he didn't want to sleep in the same bed. He must not want to give him the wrong idea, or lead him on. Were his feelings towards Harry really only platonic or paternal? Was their marriage truly a sham? Harry started to breathe rapidly and felt his limbs shaking. It couldn't be! It just couldn't be! His heart was breaking as the dream he had of someday consummating his marriage died. Trembling with emotion, Harry made his way to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. He popped an antipsychotic pill out of his blister pack and let it dissolve under his tongue. By the time he crawled into bed, the sedation had begun to set in, and before long he was fast asleep.

Snape noticed immediately that something was off with Harry when he sat down to brunch the next morning. The light had gone from the young man's usually mirthful green eyes and his mouth seemed set in a frown.

"Harry?" Snape walked over and put his hand lightly on the boy's shoulder, "What is it?"

Harry looked up at Snape with a despondent expression and said quietly, "I feel so...empty."

"Did something happen?" Snape asked gently, "Talk to me, Harry."

"Do you like me, Severus?" Harry willed himself to ask, his voice catching in his throat.

"Oh, Harry," Snape sighed heavily, pulling the younger man into a hug, "Of course I like you. I know we haven't always gotten along, especially in the past, but I've grown quite fond of you these past few weeks."

Harry took some consolation in the affection and warmth Snape was showing to him. He knew that the embittered older man did not open up to others easily and that the kindness he was showing Harry was not to be taken for granted. But he also knew that Snape didn't appear to return his feelings of romantic love or sexual attraction.

"Are you going to be all right?" Harry heard Snape ask him, "Do you need to take off sick?"

"No, I'll be fine," Harry muttered. He finished eating his quiche and then got ready to go to work.

* * *

It was around that time that Harry began to let things go and everything went to shit. He started leaving his dirty clothes all around his bedroom and even in the bathroom. Empty cans of soda started to pile up on his bedside stand. He stopped doing his own dishes. The boy was so depressed that Snape didn't have the heart to punish him or even scold him.

"I think we should call your psychiatrist," Snape told him one day, "Maybe get your medication adjusted."

"I'm already taking the maximum doses of everything, Severus," Harry said in a resigned tone, "There's nothing that can be done for this."

"You need to talk to someone," Snape said calmly, "If not your psychiatrist, then maybe a counsellor."

"And what? What would they have me do that would make me feel any better?"

"I wouldn't know; it's not my area of expertise. But what would be the harm? Why not give it a go?" Snape tried to remain cool-headed, despite Harry's negative attitude.

"What would be the harm? It'd be a waste of my damn time, that's the harm," Harry snapped.

Snape opened his mouth to rebuke the brat, but when he looked in Harry's eyes and saw the profound sadness there, he felt he had no choice but to let it go.

* * *

Harry couldn't figure it out. Why wasn't Snape calling him out? Harry knew he was depressed, but he was also behaving abominably. Didn't Snape care about him enough to discipline him anymore? All he wanted was to pass him off to his psychiatrist or some counsellor. Maybe it was because of how he had reacted the last time he was spanked. Did Harry's arousal scare Snape? He had told him it was OK, that it was to be expected, but perhaps he was not being entirely truthful. After all, if he were _really_ heterosexual, why would he willingly engage in activities with another man that ended in ejaculation? There was only one way to find out - once and for all. He would have to misbehave on purpose. Snape seemed willing to overlook his slovenliness in his depressive state. But would he overlook, say, a doobie on the coffee table?

* * *

"Harry James Potter!" Snape roared, his long-repressed exasperation boiling over, "Why is there a marijuana cigarette on the coffee table?"

Harry emerged from his bedroom, a little scared by Snape's outburst. Snape had been walking on eggshells around him for so long that Harry had nearly forgotten about his nasty temper.

"It's my day off," Harry protested with as much attitude as he could muster, "Is it not my prerogative to toke up?"

"Listen here, you insolent brat!" Snape seethed, "I have had it up to here with you moping around and leaving all the housework to me. I cut you some slack because you've obviously been depressed. But I am not going to sit by while you turn into a pothead! I won't allow it!"

"What are you going to do about it?" Harry asked defiantly, baiting him, "You're not my father!"

"Rest assured, Mr. Potter, there are going to be some serious consequences for your impertinence and your possession of illegal drugs," Snape declared icily.

"Does that mean...are you going to spank me?" Harry wondered with trepidation.

"What do you think? Do you think you deserve a spanking, Harry?" Snape asked in a menacingly soft voice.

"Yes, sir," Harry couldn't bring himself to meet Snape's eyes.

"I concur," Snape intoned dangerously, "You're long overdue for a thorough bottom-warming. Go stand in the far corner until you're called."

Harry felt his heart-rate pick up as he stood in the corner. He found myself shifting his feet in nervous anticipation. It had been three weeks since Severus had last turned him over his knee. Snape seemed quite angry about the drugs, and Harry's bratty attitude. Harry knew he would likely be sleeping on his stomach tonight.

"To me, Harry," Snape ordered him. The older man was sitting on the sofa. In his hands was the strap.

"You're going to strap me, sir?" Harry asked nervously.

"Bringing illegal drugs into our home is a very serious offense, Harry," Snape lectured, "Furthermore, I cannot abide defiance and rudeness. To teach you a lesson, I will be giving you a sound spanking, followed by ten licks of the strap. If you ever bring illegal drugs home again, I won't even bother turning you over my knee, you'll be bent straight over the arm of the couch and strapped thirty times."

Harry's eyes widened. Maybe the joint hadn't been the best choice to bait his husband with after all. At the very least, he should have smoked it first if he was going to be disciplined so severely.

Rather than asking Harry to bare his bum, Snape reached out and unbuttoned Harry's trousers himself, jerking them to his knees. Once Harry was over his lap, Snape peeled back his underpants, exposing his naughty bottom. The brat really deserved this spanking, Snape thought grimly as he delivered a series of harsh slaps to Harry's supple cheeks. The distinctive sound of a bare bum being spanked filled the apartment, and was soon accompanied by the sobs of a badly-behaved boy receiving his due. Harry's bottom was already a light red by the time Snape finished smacking him.

"Tell me, what is going to happen now, Potter?" Snape asked the crying boy over his lap.

"You're going to strap me," Harry wept, "Ten times."

"And what is going to happen if you ever bring illegal drugs into this flat again?"

"Another strapping."

"And how many times will I whip you?"

"Thirty times, sir."

"That's right," Snape affirmed gruffly, picking up the strap.

Harry whimpered, clenching his buttocks.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but your actions have left me no choice but to tan your hide. If you had followed the rules we agreed upon, this wouldn't be necessary."

With that, Snape raised the strap above his shoulder, letting it crack mercilessly against Harry's bottom. The boy kicked involuntarily with each subsequent lick. Snape winced as he saw the strap leave dark red marks across the boy's bum. He knew sitting would be very uncomfortable for Harry for at least the next couple of days.

As Snape dealt him one last blow, Harry noticed something that made him temporarily forget about the pain in his backside. Something hard was poking him in the stomach. At first he thought that Snape must be carrying something in the front pocket of his trousers. It wasn't until Snape unceremoniously offloaded him onto the couch to run to the washroom that he realized what had just occurred.

Severus Snape was going to have some explaining to do, that's for sure. And as for Harry Potter...he had some confessions to make too.


	10. I Just Hate How It Sounds

**Chapter 10: I Just Hate How It Sounds***

* _One Thing_ , Finger Eleven

"You're looking entirely too chipper for a boy who has just had his bottom blistered," Snape drawled upon his return from the washroom, "I'd wipe that self-satisfied smirk off your face or I might conclude you haven't learned your lesson."

"You were in the loo an awfully long time," Harry grinned, "You weren't getting blitzed off my Mango Kush were you, Professor?"

"No, just flushing it down the toilet," Snape rejoined nastily, "Something I would suggest you do post haste with the rest of your stash. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that if I find anymore "kush" around the flat, it's RIP your tush."

"Trust me, I've learned my lesson," Harry assured him, as he shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, "But, I think we'd both agree that it doesn't take eleven minutes to flush a blunt down the toilet. What took you so long in there? Are you having digestive troubles?"

"What are you getting at, Potter?" Snape's eyes flashed dangerously, "I don't like your tone."

"You were having a wank, weren't you?" Harry asked brazenly.

Snape threw his hands up in the air, "Christ, Potter! Is nothing sacred?"

"Sacred is a rather odd word to describe masturbation."

"I agree, but I wasn't referring to self-gratification. I meant PRIVACY, Potter. Something I have had precious little of since I moved in with your sorry arse."

"An apt description of my arse at the moment," Harry joked, "Sorry, Severus. I'm being a prat. I just...I don't understand you, you know?"

"What isn't there to understand? I'm a _man_ , Potter, endowed with all the standard equipment and, yes, sexual appetites. Did you think that just because I was your professor that I was an asexual eunuch?"

"No, of course not, sir," Harry felt himself starting to get nervous, "I just didn't realize that you had a sexual appetite for... whaling on my behind."

"Really, Potter? Does that really come as such a surprise to you, all things considered?" Snape sounded exasperated, starting to pacing back and forth the living room.

"Well," Harry started to wring his hands, "The thing is...I'm a man, too. And I thought… I thought you might be straight, sir."

Snape stopped pacing, turning to face Harry, whom he noticed was suddenly looking quite miserable.

"So that's what this is all about," Snape exhaled, his voice no longer laced with indignation.

"I'm curious. Where did you get the idea I was heterosexual, Harry?" Snape asked, sitting down next to the younger man, "Was it the memories I showed you? Of your mother and I when we were kids? You do realize that we never actually dated?"

"No, it wasn't that...well, not only that, anyway. Please don't get mad...but I came home one night after work and saw that you had been looking at girl-on-girl porn on the computer."

"Well, that's embarrassing," Snape gave a nervous laugh, "And it's your computer, Potter. It's not like the time you snooped in my pensieve. What grounds would I have to be angry?"

"I don't know," Harry said softly, "Sometimes people tend to lash out at others in awkward situations, I guess."

"I'm not upset, Harry," Snape assured him quietly, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit mortified… I'm not one to share my sexual inclinations with others. But I'll get over it. I'll be fine."

"When you say that you're not one to share your sexual inclinations with others, does that include me?" Harry asked in a small voice.

Snape sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose while he considered Harry's request.

"No, Harry," Snape said afterwhile in a strangled voice , "For you, I will. You, of all people, deserve to know. I just...I hate how it sounds."

"You're ashamed of your sexuality?" Harry reached out and touched Severus' shoulder as if to comfort him, "It's OK to be gay, Severus."

"Quite right," Snape said tightly, "But I'm not gay, Harry."

"Oh," Harry looked crestfallen, "But that means...you're ashamed to be straight? That's...different. Is it because of me? Did I do something? Or say something?"

"No, no...you darling boy! I'm not straight either. I suppose one might say I'm bisexual, but that might be a bit of a misnomer given that my experience with sexual intercourse is, uh, non-existent?"

Harry smiled warmly at him, "Severus, I've never….well….you know, either. Obviously, I've fooled around quite a bit, but I've never actually had a proper shag."

"It's more than that, though, Harry. Listen, I'm just going to right come out and say it," Snape sounded uncharacteristically nervous, "I'm an equal-opportunity sadist. I get off on hurting and humiliating other people."

"Good thing I like being hurt and humiliated then?" Harry tried to lighten the mood.

"You're far too indulgent of me," Snape shook his head, "In all honesty, Harry, sometimes...it makes me feel like a monster. I ask myself what kind of person derives pleasure from hurting others?"

"Severus, you might be a snarky old git," Harry teased him, "But you're a good person. A really good person."

"The Dark Lord liked hurting others," Severus continued, "And he was the incarnation of evil."

"Voldemort killed people. You dole out spankings. I think there's a fairly sizeable difference between the two."

"I killed Albus," Snape said grimly.

"And did you go home afterwards and jerk off to the memory of his staged assassination? I don't think so."

"No, most definitely not," Snape agreed, "You're right, of course. That's just where my mind takes me when I start questioning my proclivities."

"So...speaking of your proclivities...do you have a lot of, erm, experience with, uh, corporal punishment?" Harry ventured, biting his lip.

"My father didn't believe in sparing the rod," Snape said crisply, "I had my share of thrashings as a child. But something tells me that isn't what you meant. You want to know about my experience administering spankings. Is that right?"

"Yes, if you don't mind telling me. I'm just...curious," Harry said, taking a moment to rub his sore bottom, "You really seem, um, to be a skilled disciplinarian. I could tell from the first time you took me over your knee that you were, uh, well-practised."

"You flatter me," Snape smirked, "You're actually the first person I've had the pleasure of spanking in quite some time. In fact...there was really only one period in my life where I interacted with others with similar inclinations. It was during my twenties, after you had first defeated the Dark Lord and we thought he was gone for good. Between then and a couple of years before you started at Hogwarts, I was fairly active in an S & M community in London. I never had a committed relationship, such as the one you had with your Dom. It was just all...roleplaying...really. I spanked numerous young ladies, and a few young lads as well."

"Severus? Will we...ever be in a committed relationship?" Harry blinked his luminous green eyes at him.

"What's more committed than marriage?" Snape replied wryly.

"You know what I mean, Severus. I just...don't see why we can't be an actual couple."

"This isn't easy for me, Harry," Snape acknowledged solemnly, "I have never fully committed myself to anybody in that way. I might still seem quite closed off to you, but I've already opened up to you and shared more of my life with you than I have with any other human being. Surely you've noticed that I've developed a soft spot for you, brat. Trust me when I tell you that there is nothing more important to me than supporting you, giving you shelter...making sure you're safe. I never want to do anything to jeopardize your health and happiness - even if that means treading carefully when it comes to matters of the heart."

Harry stared at Snape, his affection for his domineering husband rolling off him in waves.

"I'm so lucky to have you in my life, Severus," Harry said warmly, clasping the older man's hands in his own, "If...you hadn't come to New York when you had, who knows where I'd be. Probably on the streets somewhere…"

"I came to New York because I needed to see you. I _needed_ to see you...to see if there was any chance….any chance we could reconcile. I needed to make you understand…" Snape's voice began to shake, as if he were on the verge of crying.

"It's OK, Severus," Harry reassured him, laying his head on the older man's shoulder, "I understand. It's all right. We're together now."


	11. Come To Bed, Don't Make Me Sleep Alone

**Chapter Eleven: Come to Bed, Don't Make Me Sleep Alone***

* _Lithium_ , Evanescence

"But Severus! You already smacked my bum at the supermarket! I'm sorry I was cheeky. Please don't spank me again. We're going to Coney Island tomorrow...and I don't want my bottom to be sore. Please!"

"I gave you one quick warning swat in the confectionary aisle when you wouldn't stop begging me to buy you a huge bag of lollies. After that, you continued your little temper tantrum, whingeing and carrying on, until we arrived home just moments ago. That is shameful behaviour young man. You were acting like a bratty four-year old and now you are going to be punished like one," Snape sounded genuinely exasperated.

"Sir, please! I'll be good. I won't eat any sweets tomorrow at the amusement park. I'll give up soda for a week!"

"I'm sorry, Harry, but the consequence for your misbehaviour will be a spanking. You know very well that is what happens to naughty boys who disobey me. Go brush your teeth, take your meds, put on your pyjamas and wait for me in your bedroom. You will be going straight to bed after I warm your bottom."

Pouting, Harry went to brush his teeth and put on his cotton pyjamas. Finally, he swallowed his evening dose of lithium with a glass of water. He really did not want to have to go on the rides tomorrow with a smarting behind. He had been looking forward to this day for the past two weeks! Then again, he really hoped Severus wouldn't change his mind and cancel the day trip altogether. Harry decided that he had best accept his punishment without further complaint and try to be as angelic as possible until the pair boarded the subway the next morning.

Harry was sitting quietly on his bed with his hands on his lap when Snape came in, looking cross. He was carrying one of the armless chairs from the kitchen. After placing it next to the bed, Snape took a seat and began rolling back his sleeve to expose the hand he would use to administer a firm correction to his young husband.

"I'm really sorry, Severus," Harry tried to sound as sincere as possible as he stood up, "I'm sorry I embarrassed you at the supermarket. I...I'm ready for my spanking."

"Bend over my knee, Harry," Snape commanded evenly.

As Harry lowered himself over Snape's lap, the older man pulled him flush against his torso. Snape looked down at the upturned bottom presented to him and mentally prepared himself to take his wayward submissive in hand - yet again. For the past week, Harry had been anything but submissive; he had been acting quite childishly and had been needing more frequent smackings. The warning swat at the supermarket had been the first time Snape had punished Harry in public. Even though no one else saw it happen, Snape thought it might shame Harry into behaving himself. Snape had warned Harry afterwards that if he were naughty in public again, that he might take him to the restroom or another secluded area and bare his bottom for a proper smacking. He hoped the brat minded his manners in public from then on because he wasn't sure he could actually follow up on that threat without getting arrested.

Snape raised his hand and began to whack the seat of Harry's pyjama bottoms good and hard.

**SLAP! SPANK! SMACK! SMACK! SLAP! SPANK! WHACK! SLAP! SPANK! SMACK!**

After ten hard spanks, Harry started to wiggle his bum, trying to evade the punishing blows.

"Stop moving around, Potter. I might still decide to have you fetch the slipper. Do not tempt me."

**WHACK! SPANK! SMACK! SLAP! SPANK! SLAP! SPANK! SMACK! WHAP! SPANK!**

Harry whimpered as Snape reached his fingers into the waistband of his pyjama bottoms and and pulled them down just enough to expose his pinkened cheeks.

"Harry, this naughtiness for the sake of naughtiness must end. While I am glad to punish you for occasional mischief and genuine lapses in judgement, I do not relish spanking you every single day - or even multiple times a day! It is disrespectful to me and makes me feel that you are not taking your chastisement seriously."

Harry began to sob, "I'm so sorry Severus. I didn't know that's how you felt. I honestly wasn't being bratty on purpose...I think maybe I was...subconsciously trying to get your attention and went about it in a really immature way."

Snape patted Harry's back reassuringly, "There, there. We'll talk more after we have finished with your punishment."

With that, Snape turned his attention to the waiting bottom over his knee. Determined to punish the brat thoroughly, he started to spank the boy's bare seat at a brisk pace.

**SPANK! SPANK! SMACK! SMACK! SLAP! SPANK! WHAP! SLAP! SPLAT! SPANK!**

"You will not throw a tantrum in public again. If you do, I might not wait until we get home to give you a sore bum."

**SLAP! SPANK! SPANK! SMACK! SPLAT! SPANK! WHAP! SLAP! SMACK! SPANK!**

By the time Snape had finished, Harry's bottom was red and warm to the touch. The young man's face was wet with tears. Snape replaced Harry's pyjama bottoms for him, picked up his petite husband, and tucked him into bed. Pulling up a chair, Snape sat down at Harry's bedside and looked at him with a thoughtful expression.

"Harry, what is this about you wanting to get my attention? What is it you need from me that I'm not giving you?" Snape asked in a gentle voice, taking Harry's hand in his.

"This is going to sound...stupid, probably," Harry hesitated, still sniffling, "I really wish that you would come to bed with me, Severus. I know I keep asking and you keep saying no. And I know you would never do anything to hurt my feelings on purpose...but when you say no it makes me feel really bad. I swear I would never take advantage of you, Severus. I just wish sometimes that we could...I don't know...cuddle? I like being close to you; it makes me feel safe. And most of the time, the closest I get to you is when you're smacking my bum. So maybe that's why I've been so naughty lately...I'm sorry."

Snape didn't respond at first other than to give Harry's hand a quick squeeze to reassure him he wasn't upset.

"I'll be right back," Snape said mysteriously.

When Snape returned, he was sporting his own black silk pyjamas. Before making his way over to the bed, he switched off the light.

"Move over, brat," he said with feigned gruffness.

Harry scooted over closer to the wall. He didn't think he could be any happier! He fluffed up his pillow and prepared to nod off.

"Harry?" Snape spoke quietly, still sitting up in bed, "I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. I'm not used to any of this...to having someone like me, let alone want to be close to me. I never intended for you to take it personally. Sometimes I forget that you are such a kind-hearted and sensitive person - so very different from me. You deserve so much more, but know that I do love you, very much."

"You...you love me?" Harry couldn't believe his ears, sitting up in bed with a start.

"Of course, sweet boy," Snape said softly, "I know I don't often show it, but you mean the world to me. I certainly wouldn't be here in this bed with you otherwise."

"Can...can I give you a hug?" Harry asked timidly.

"Come here," Snape opened his arms to the young man, "As if you even had to ask."

Harry cuddled up against his older husband's chest, savouring the rare moment of intimacy.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I love you, too."

Snape pressed a kiss to Harry's tousled jet-black locks.

Harry smiled sleepily. Some things were worth waiting for.


	12. And If My Daddy Thinks I'm Fine

**Chapter Twelve: And If My Daddy Thinks I'm Fine***

*Rehab, Amy Winehouse

The next morning, when Snape awoke at half past six to go to the loo, Harry's side of the bed was conspicuously unoccupied. After attending to his business in the lavatory, Snape shuffled out to the living room in his night clothes, his eyelids still fluttering drowsily.

Harry was sitting on the couch with his laptop in front of him on the coffee table, green eyes unblinking, typing frenetically, and pumping his leg as if he were preparing to run a 100 metre race. As soon as his eyes fell on Snape, a bright smile overtook his face and he popped up from the couch like a sprinter out of his starting blocks. Before Snape knew it, Harry had captured him in a tight embrace and had planted a kiss on his ashen cheek.

"Hi, sir!" Harry greeted him vivaciously before scampering off in the direction of the kitchen.

"Easy, there...you'll give an old man a heart attack," Snape protested in a husky voice, "What are you doing up so early, anyway?"

"I made pancakes!" Harry reported enthusiastically, popping his head back in the living room, "Chocolate-chip pancakes! And you can have them with vanilla ice cream! And maple syrup, of course!"

"Are you trying to put me in a diabetic coma?" Snape drawled, making his way to the kitchen.

"What?! You have diabetes? Why didn't you tell me?" Harry cried with instant concern.

"Well, no. Not to my knowledge. But if I don't have diabetes now, I'll be well on my way after this saccharine spread," Snape sneered, although he took a seat at the table anyway.

"Don't be a spoilsport then, you only live once! Isn't it the most beautiful day? Look outside! The sun's saffron rays are illuminating the metropolis and the air is so balmy and aromatic. It is a perfect day for our trip, don't you think?" Harry babbled on, nearly bouncing in his seat, "Oh, and I was just chatting with Draco on Facebook. He's going to join us today if that's alright with you. He's coming by international portkey to Grand Central Station. We're going to meet him there. Otherwise, he might get lost."

"I didn't realize you were still in contact with Draco," Snape commented thoughtfully, selecting the pancake with the least chocolate chips and proceeding to cut it into small pieces.

"If it wouldn't be for Facebook, we probably wouldn't be. It's this social networking web site on the Internet. I'll show it to you sometime!" Harry grinned incandescently, "I actually haven't seen Draco in quite awhile. He last came to visit me about three years ago when he was dating Blaise Zabini. They broke up shortly afterwards, but I had nothing to do with it, I swear!"

"Really?" Snape intoned cynically, cocking an eyebrow, "Who is Draco dating now?"

"No one that I know of," Harry admitted, "Draco's kind of a playboy. He doesn't really like to settle down."

"No kidding. Does he know about us?" Snape wondered aloud, genuinely curious.

"Yes, I told him," Harry nodded, "Also, I changed my status on Facebook to 'Married to Severus Snape.' You don't mind?"

Snape nearly choked on his food. Taking a moment to compose himself, he then asked, "What was Draco's reaction?"

"He told me he'll believe it when he sees it. That's half the reason he's coming, I think."

"Well, it should be nice to see him," Snape said mildly, "I haven't seen him since I was first released from Azkaban."

"Today is going to be so much fun!" Harry clapped his hands gleefully, "I can't wait to go on the rides at Luna Park! You'll have to ride the Thunderbolt with Draco and me!"

"What's the Thunderbolt? Sounds ominous," Snape inquired in a voice devoid of enthusiasm.

"It's a roller coaster."

"Ah."

"You don't know what a roller coaster is, do you?"

"Of course I know what a roller coaster is, you nitwit. I haven't been living under a rock for the past fifty years!" Snape snapped, carrying his plate to the dishwasher.

"We're meeting Draco at 10 AM, we have plenty of time to beautify ourselves and such….not that we need much beautification! We're like the power couple of Midtown West. They should put us on the cover of _Vanity Fair_."

"What has gotten into you, Potter?" Snape snorted, "And why were you up so early? If we're meeting Draco at ten, we could have easily slept in until eight."

"I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep!" Harry chirped, "Too excited for today!"

"Well, I am pleased to see you in good spirits," Snape told him kindly, "I know it's been a bit of a rough month. You deserve to be happy."

Harry dashed over and gave Snape another impromptu hug, prompting an indulgent smile from the older man. Snape then watched as his sprightly husband took out his pill organizer and proceeded to swallow his morning tablets with a large bottle of Coca Cola.

"Hey, you still have that murse, yeah?" Harry asked Snape casually.

"Murse?" Snape furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Man-purse," Harry laughed.

"Hah. Yes, I do. Why?" Snape responded mildly.

"Can you please bring it so that I can pack my mid-day dose of lithium, some Gravol for motion sickness, my sunglasses, a change of clothes in case someone vomits on me, etc.? I think they have storage lockers on-site, so you won't have to carry it around with you all day," Harry explained.

"That sounds reasonable," Snape nodded, "Now, are you going to stay out of trouble today, Potter? Or should I also be packing the strap to keep you in line?"

"I am going to be on my best behaviour today, I promise!" Harry assured him, without a hint of impishness, "I'll be a paragon of virtue!"

Snape snorted, "You know very well I do not expect moral perfection, Potter. Just don't do anything illegal, prohibited or foolhardy. And don't make a nuisance of yourself. I shall do my best to give you fair warning if your conduct is objectionable."

"Thank you, sir," Harry smiled dazzlingly before heading off to take a shower.

Snape had been meaning to tell Harry that he needn't call him 'sir' anymore, given their close relationship, but hadn't gotten around to it - for whatever reason. Truth be told, Snape found that Potter's vestigial use of this term of address endeared him to the brat all the more.

* * *

"Hey! Draco! Over here!" Harry cried cheerfully when he spotted the blonde wizard ambling about Grand Central Terminal.

"Potter! You haven't got detention with Professor Snape _again_?" Draco joked playfully.

"Indeed. I'm afraid it's detention for life for this one," Snape drawled, grabbing Harry by the scruff of his neck and pulling him close, causing the younger man to blush madly.

"Hello, Severus," Draco greeted his former professor more seriously, "It's good to see you."

"And you, Draco. Thank you for coming. I know the circumstances are a bit...unorthodox."

"Hardly. I mean, yeah, I was a bit surprised when I heard the news," Draco admitted, "I wish you two would have contacted me beforehand. I could've been your witness, rather than Mundungus Fletcher! I mean, was there really no one else?"

"We might've had you, Draco, only I thought'd be a bit weird, given our past involvement," Harry answered honestly.

"What?! You told Severus about that?" Draco exclaimed, although he didn't really sound that upset.

"Of course," Harry said seriously, "I mean, we were getting married, after all."

"In any event," Snape cut in, wanting to change the subject, "We are glad to have you here, now, Draco. I assume Harry has briefed you on the plan for today."

"Why, yes, he has," Draco nodded, "Am I to understand that you'll be riding the roller coaster with us, Severus?"

Snape smirked, "We'll see."

"You're such a good sport, Severus!" Harry beamed, "Isn't he such a good sport, Draco? We're all going to have such a splendid, sublime, satisfying day!"

"Er...super?" Draco hesitated, giving Snape a sidelong glance.

* * *

"So, how are things? Really?" Draco asked Snape as Harry waited in line to buy some cotton candy.

"Things are fine, Draco," Snape assured him.

"And Harry?" Draco pressed him further.

"Harry is doing well. He's got himself a steady job. The lad has had a rough go of it, but he's getting back on his feet now."

"He's manic, yeah?" Draco pointed out.

"Manic? Right now, you mean?"

"Don't tell me you don't see it, Severus! The poor thing is so keyed up. He can't stay still. He's tripping over his words when he's not poeticizing the most mundane of observations. Do you know that he messaged me at 3 AM last night? Your time? I don't think he slept much, if at all. And have you seen how he's been smiling incessantly? It's almost creepy, yeah? I guess that's the euphoria…."

"So he's happy! What of it? Doesn't Harry deserve a little joy in his life after everything he has been through?"

"Harry explained to you about his condition, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, then you know that this exhilaration he's feeling right now can become problematic, yeah? Once, when he was like this before, I went with him to Barney's and he spent 10 000 dollars on new clothes - in the space of fifteen minutes!"

"I've confiscated his credit cards, so that shouldn't be a problem," Snape remarked defensively.

"But that's not all, Severus. There's the drugs, the alcohol, the hypersexuality…."

Snape sighed deeply, "He's been taking his lithium as prescribed. What else am I to do? I'm not going to send him back to Bellevue."

"You need to convince him to take his Seroquel. That should put the brakes on. Then he needs to be seen by his psychiatrist as soon as possible for follow-up."

Snape nodded gratefully, "All right. That all sounds feasible. We don't need to leave here straight away, do we? He's been looking forward to this outing for quite awhile now."

"No, as long as we keep an eye on him, he should be fine."

"You're right, Draco," Snape shook his head resignedly, "I noticed first thing this morning that something was off with him. I suppose I just wanted to believe he was excited for today. Do you think that could have set him off?"

"Possibly," Draco contemplated, "Or it could have been something else. Or nothing at all. Who knows? Did anything out of the ordinary happen yesterday in the Snape-Potter household?"

Snape blanched, thinking immediately of the spanking he had given Harry the night before. But the pair had engaged in similar activities in the past without any such….

_Oh. Right._

"I told him I loved him last night," Snape admitted carefully, "For the first time."

"You bastard!" Draco spat furiously, "You've been married to Harry for weeks and you just told him you loved him last night?"

"It's not easy for me, Draco," Snape protested weakly.

"And you think it's easy for him? Severus, I swear…. You had better be treating Harry right. Christ, you have no idea…" Draco ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair.

"I have no idea of what, Draco?" Snape furrowed his eyebrows in immediate concern.

"Severus….I'm not sure when it occurred to you that you had feelings for Harry, but he's liked you for a long time..." Draco revealed to him, his expression serious.

"He has? I don't understand," Snape faltered.

"Years ago, when I was…" Draco's voice faded away as he saw his bespeckled friend approaching.

"Yum!" Harry exclaimed as he arrived back with cotton candy - both in his hand and in his mouth, "I love cotton candy! It is a tantalizing treat that transcends my taste buds!"

Draco laughed fondly at his friend's antics, "Your hands are all sticky, mate. Let me know when you're finished and I'll cast a cleaning charm for you."

"Or we could just use hand sanitizer…" Snape pointed out, pulling the bottle of clear, bubbly fluid from his murse.

"You two and your newfound muggle ways!" Draco remarked good-naturedly while Snape shot him a dark look.

"We're not muggles," Snape snarled at Draco as he helped Harry wipe off his hands.

"Would it be so bad if we were?" Harry asked innocently, "I mean...there isn't anything wrong with being non-magical. I've spent more of my life without magic than with it at this point…"

Snape's expression softened immediately upon hearing his young husband speak up.

"Out of the mouths of babes…" Draco quipped, smiling at the interaction between Harry and Snape.

"I'm not a baby!" Harry protested, "You're less than two months older than me, Draco."

"Now, now. Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy: Cease this childish squabble at once before I am obliged to dock points and assign detentions!" Snape lectured them in jest.

"As if you would ever give Draco detention!" Harry became agitated, "Let alone deduct points from your own house, what a joke! Cronyism...corruption… cruelty…. contempt..."

"Harry!" Draco tried to calm him, "Severus was just making a joke. There's no need to go postal."

"Well, it's true!" Harry seethed, beginning to hyperventilate, "You were his favourite student. I was his least favourite student. He...he hated me!"

Snape laid a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Take deep breaths, Potter," Snape intoned softly, "It's all right."

Harry turned abruptly and buried his head in Snape's chest. The former Potions Master wrapped his arms around the Gryffindor alumnus, holding him close. Snape could feel Harry's body trembling with manic energy and unbridled anguish.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry whispered, trying his best to control his breathing.

"You've done nothing wrong," Snape assured him quietly, "I'm sorry I upset you."

"I'm sorry, too, Harry," Draco gave his friend a sympathetic look, "I shouldn't have made that stupid comment."

"No...it's all right. I don't know what came over me. Just hit a nerve, I guess," Harry brushed it off, releasing his hold on Snape, "I'll be fine…..Oh look! Draco! Look! The queue just opened up again for the Brooklyn Flyer. Let's go! Well...that is if it's OK with you, Severus. May I go on the ride with Draco? Please?"

"Of course you may, Harry," Snape smiled gently at his young husband, "You go and have fun with Draco. We'll reconvene for lunch and then afterwards, maybe I'll be feeling brave enough to join you on the Thunderbolt."

Wiping away the last of his tears, Harry flashed Snape a winsome grin before grabbing Draco's hand and dragging him off in the direction of the Brooklyn Flyer.

* * *

"All right there, Harry?" Draco looked over at Harry as they hovered ninety feet in the air.

"Yeah, this ride doesn't actually scare me much at all," Harry admitted, "I'm not much afraid of heights. It reminds me a bit of when I….used to fly my broom. I miss that."

Draco gave him a sympathetic smile.

"You and Severus seem to be getting along well," Draco remarked mildly.

"He's been really good to me," Harry nodded, "It's all happened so fast, though, which I guess is a good thing, but it's been an adjustment. I have to keep reminding myself he doesn't hate me anymore, like he did back at school. And sometimes I have nightmares that we're back at Hogwarts again and he's yelling at me, insulting me and just...looking at me with that hateful gleam in his eyes. I'm always so scared that he's going to wake up one day and remember that he can't stand the sight of me."

"Oh, Harry!" Draco eyed his friend pityingly, "Severus loves you. I don't know how you managed it, but the old curmudgeon really seems smitten with you. I know things were very different back in school, but that part of our lives is over now. I'm not even sure he really hated you back then. People can change. Look at the two of us! We used to be at each other's' throats, but now we're good friends."

"That seems different, somehow," Harry sighed, "We were just kids back then. It is only natural that as we grow up, our attitudes change… Severus was already an adult when we started at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, he really robbed the cradle, didn't he?" Draco smirked, "Dirty old man."

"Draco!" Harry laughed, in spite of himself, "Twenty years isn't that terrible of an age difference. In fact, did you know….."

Harry then proceeded to launch into an impassioned monologue on the merits of May-December romances and their prevalence in historical and contemporary societies.

* * *

"I'm knackered!" Draco yawned, leaning back in his seat in the subway car next to Snape as Harry paced back and forth the length of the train tirelessly, "You impressed me today, Severus. Five rides on the Thunderbolt! I didn't think you had it in you."

"Well, a half-bottle of Gravol later," Snape smiled wryly.

"I'm glad we stopped riding when we did," Draco nodded, "I was feeling rather queasy during that last spin on the Power Surge."

"Thank you for coming today, Draco," Snape expressed his gratitude sincerely, "I hadn't realized that you and Harry had become such good friends. You're very good with him, very patient."

"If I am good with him, and patient, it is only because I am mirroring the kindness he has shown to me throughout these past eight years," Draco admitted thoughtfully, "Harry helped me come to terms with my sexuality - and I'm not just talking about that infamous kiss. He was a great source of emotional support for me through my break-up with Granger, even though it ultimately cost him his friendship with the witch. And he was also there for me when my father was released from Azkaban; he even helped me find it in my heart to forgive him. Of all people - _**Harry Potter**_ \- convincing me that I should bury the hatchet with my death-eater father! I'm telling you, Severus, he's the most selfless person I've ever known."

"He certainly is a very special young man," Snape agreed, "I can't help but wonder, Draco, why things didn't work out between you two boys? You sound like you are quite fond of him and from watching you two interact, I must say you seem compatible…"

"Just to be clear," Draco inhaled sharply, "Harry and I were never in a relationship. That kiss is as far as it ever got. That being said, I'd be lying if I said I didn't care for him a great deal."

"Well, what stopped you from pursuing a relationship?" Snape inquired curiously.

"You, Severus," Draco replied pointedly, "It was you."

"But I was in Azkaban...I hadn't the slightest clue…"

"You never did, did you?" Draco sighed heavily, "Severus, Harry has had feelings for you since his sixth year."

"His sixth year…? His sixth year in New York? Not at Hogwarts? No, that's impossible," Snape shook his head emphatically, "How would you even know this? Did Potter tell you?"

"No, he didn't tell me," Draco admitted, "Granger told me, when we were still an item. Apparently he was devastated after you offed Dumbledore because he had really started to believe that you were loyal to him - despite outward appearances. Granger said she caught him one day that summer, cutting himself with a shard of glass, crying out 'How could you?' and 'Why Snape? Why?' and 'I trusted you! I loved you!' Then, a year later, when he thought you had died in the battle he told Hermione that he wanted to kill himself...to be with you."

"But why?" Snape sounded distressed, "Why did he even like me, then? I was horrid to him."

"The heart wants what it wants," Draco said quietly, "And so, I could not in good conscience pursue a relationship with Harry when I knew he couldn't get his mind off of you."

"I don't deserve him, Draco," Snape covered his face with his hands, "That poor boy, that precious child...how I must have made him suffer… He cut himself...nearly killed himself!"

"He still needs you, Severus," Draco said firmly, "He needs you right now. He's a bit fragile, yes. He needs love and affection more than we do. He needs to be reassured that you're not going to revert back to berating and bullying him. He told me today he's been having nightmares about how you treated him at Hogwarts…"

"Oh, Christ," Snape moaned, doubled over as if in physical pain.

Draco put his hand lightly on Snape's back, "It's all right, Severus. It's not too late to do right by him. First off, we need to nip this manic episode in the bud. Would you like me to stay for a few days until we get things sorted?"

"Please," Snape sounded uncharacteristically desperate.

"Hey you!" Draco called out to Harry affectionately, "Come sit down with us, Potter. I think your hubby needs a hug."

"Draco!" Snape barked, kicking the blonde's foot.

"Sorry, I'll have to take a raincheck," Harry apologized quickly, "This is our stop. Let's go! We must disembark forthwith! The Starbucks on our block closes at ten and I need an espresso."

"Potter, the last thing you need is caffeine," Draco observed wearily, following Harry off the train with Snape following closely behind.

"Oh! Scratch that. Scratch Starbucks. I almost forgot! The season premiere of _Jersey Shore_ is tonight! We can't miss it."

"What is he blathering on about now?" Snape sniffed.

"No clue. Jersey something-or-other. Wait. Jersey? We're not going to New Jersey tonight, Potter!" Draco protested, misunderstanding what Harry had said.

" _Jersey Shore_ is a TV show. A TV is a device with moving pictures. I have one back at the flat," Harry explained, as if to an alien.

"Well, whatever it is, if it involves going back to the flat, I'm in!" Draco acquiesced.

"You two are in for such a treat!" Harry gushed, "Wait until you see The Situation and Snooki in action!"

"Oh, goody!" Snape snorted.

"Yeah, you probably won't like it," Harry admitted candidly, "But will you still cuddle with me on the couch while we watch it?"

"Aw!" Draco cooed.

Snape ignored him, taking long strides to catch up with Harry who had been walking ahead of them at a swift pace.

"I will," Snape assured him, putting a protective arm around Harry's shoulders, "I will, but only if you promise me you'll take your Seroquel tonight before bed."

Harry sighed, "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes!" Draco exclaimed, "It's like you've overdosed on an Elixir to Induce Euphoria, just without the nose-tweaking and you're reciting poetry instead of singing."

"I haven't been a nuisance, have I?" Harry looked up at Snape, biting his lip, "If I was, I honestly didn't mean to be."

"No, Harry," Snape said softly, pulling him close, "You haven't been a nuisance. You've never been a nuisance."


	13. Dirty Little Secret

**Chapter Thirteen: Dirty Little Secret***

* _Dirty Little Secret_ , All-American Rejects

"Happy Birthday, Mr. Potter," Snape greeted Harry as he emerged from the bedroom rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead," Draco called out as he strode down the hallway to the washroom.

"Sorry I slept so long," Harry yawned, "It's the antipsychotics; they're making me drowsy. I guess I lucked out that the restaurant got closed this week due to health code violations; it's given me time to sort myself out."

"That must be the first good night's sleep you've had since this all started," Snape observed, "I'm glad you finally got some rest. You must have been dead tired."

"Well, I'm glad I didn't sleep through my whole birthday, at least," Harry smiled, "We're still going out to dinner tonight, yeah? The three of us?"

"That's the plan!" Draco confirmed, emerging from the restroom, "My treat. Unless you two lovebirds want to ditch me."

"No way!" Harry assured him, "It's your last night in the city. We want to spend it with you before you go back to Britain."

"I'm heading out to the Time Warner Center to do some shopping," Draco announced, "I'd ask you to come, Potter, but..."

"He's broke," Snape supplied, eliciting an indignant glare from Harry.

"Well, I'll be back in a couple of hours," Draco bid them adieu, exiting the flat and closing the door securely behind him.

* * *

Harry sat down on the couch next to Snape who was slowly typing out an e-mail on his laptop, one letter at a time. He leaned over, trying to catch the older man's eye.

"What is it? Do you need the computer?" Snape asked, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Severus?" Harry began tentatively, "Are you...do you think you might spank me?"

That got his attention. Snape set the computer down on the coffee table.

"Now, why would I spank you, Harry?"

"Because it's my birthday."

"But you haven't been naughty."

"Birthday spankings are an American tradition. You give one spank for each year of age, and one to grow on."

"That's obscene," Snape snorted, "You can't just go around slapping people on the arse because it's their birthday."

Harry looked at him expectantly.

" _Have you_ been a naughty boy, Harry?" Snape questioned him, his voice a velvety baritone.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, shifting anxiously in his seat.

"Pray tell, what is it you've done?" Snape asked, amused, "Didn't you just wake up?"

"I...er...well..."

"Speech is hard, isn't it, Potter?" Snape smirked.

"I'm going to eat breakfast," Harry grumbled, standing up and stomping off in the direction of the kitchen.

"It's past noon, Potter. A bit late for breakfast, isn't it?" Snape teased.

"Well...brunch, then. Whatever," Harry muttered, taking out a box of Apple Jacks cereal. He dumped a healthy portion into a bowl and then poured in some soy milk. As he was reaching to open the drawer with the utensils, he accidentally knocked the bowl and its contents off the counter. The bowl smashed when it hit the ceramic floor, while the milk and cereal splattered everywhere. "FUCK!"

Snape stood up and strode to the kitchen upon hearing the crash and ensuing expletive.

"Watch your language, young man," he said coldly, "And clean up your mess."

"And if I don't?" Harry challenged him, "Why should I have to do housework? It's my birthday."

"You are on very thin ice, Mr. Potter," Snape intoned stiffly, "Clean up your mess. Now."

"No!" Harry stomped his foot, "I won't clean it up. You clean it up!"

"Last chance, Potter," Snape warned him.

With that, Harry opened up a cupboard, took out another bowl, and willfully smashed it on the floor. At that same exact moment, Draco came back into the apartment, having forgotten his wallet. Neither Harry nor Snape noticed Draco's return as the sound of shattering porcelain masked that of the click of the apartment door.

Draco was concerned when he heard the crash. Peeking around the corner of the entryway, he saw Snape and Harry in the kitchen. Snape looked furious and Harry looked like he was in the throes of a temper tantrum. With wide eyes, Draco watched as Snape stalked across the kitchen and withdrew a wooden spoon from an open drawer.

Then, grabbing Harry by the collar of his sleepshirt, Snape dragged him across the room. Sitting down in an armless chair, he tipped Harry over his knee and tugged down his sleep bottoms, revealing the boy's bare bum.

Draco was speechless. He could not believe what he was seeing! Snape was about to give Harry a spanking! Was this normal behaviour for non-magical couples? Was this abusive? Was it sexual?

"Please, sir. It's my birthday!" Harry whimpered as he hung bare-bottomed over Snape's lap, "I promise I'll be a good boy for the rest of the day. Please don't spank me."

"Good boys don't throw their breakfast cereal and break dishes," Snape scolded him, "Being the birthday boy doesn't exempt you from a well-deserved smacking. I'm sorry, but because you were naughty, I am going to have to spank your bare bum."

Harry started to cry as Snape picked up the wooden spoon. Draco continued to watch the scene unfold in disbelief. Should he leave? Should he intervene? Was Harry all right?

Snape raised the wooden spoon in the air and cracked it down hard on Harry's milky white bottom, leaving a red splotch.

"WAH!" Harry bawled, beginning to squirm.

Again and again, Snape smacked Harry's bare bum with the wooden spoon. Draco could not tear his eyes away, watching as Harry's wiggling bottom was beaten red.

"Ow! It hurts! Please, sir!" Harry protested.

"It is supposed to hurt, Potter. It is a spanking," Snape stated crisply, landing a particularly forceful smack.

Snape continued to soundly spank Harry until thirty-one swats had been administered. He then replaced Harry's pyjama bottoms, hiding the evidence of the boy's recent correction.

"You may rise, Mr. Potter," Snape said formally.

Harry stood before him, sniffling and rubbing his sore bum. Snape stood up, too, and warmly embraced the pyjama-clad boy.

"That was quite the performance," Snape snorted softly, "I didn't plan to come down on you quite so hard, but you were really asking for it, brat."

"I don't know how I'm going to sit at dinner," Harry pouted, "You don't think Draco will know I got my bum smacked, do you?"

"No, love," Snape chuckled, "He won't suspect a thing."

His heart pounding, Draco stood by the apartment door waiting for a chance to escape unnoticed. Finally, when the couple retreated to the bedroom, Draco snatched his wallet from the kitchen table and bolted from the flat with a boner rivalling the Empire State Building.


End file.
